


Terms of Engagement

by ladyspock7



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Contracts, F/M, Romance, dating games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyspock7/pseuds/ladyspock7
Summary: Megamind initiates 'Operation: Marriage Proposal,' his most ambitious plan yet, to win Roxanne's heart and steal her away from Metro Man. He thinks he's got a pretty good idea for how to convince her to date him, too. (Continues the events that take place in "Night Club of Doom" and "Conflict of Interest," though it's not really necessary to read those in order to understand this one.)





	1. Movie Night and an Invite

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a brief mention of Edna Mode from The Incredibles movie. I think she'd fit in well with the Megamind universe.

Roxanne held up her black dress shoe and asked Metro Man, “Notice anything unusual?”

He turned in the kitchen chair, making it creak alarmingly under his weight, and looked at the pump with a puzzled smile. She knew his x-ray vision would soon uncover the secret.

He blinked and looked up at her. “There’s metal in the toe.”

“And the heel,” she said, unable to keep the pleased smirk off her face. “The world’s only steel-toed pumps. Remember seeing him limp? All thanks to my little friends. Stomped on his foot and kicked him in the shins.”

Metro Man had whisked Megamind back to prison pretty fast after that last failed death trap with Megamind’s new, improved drill. What with one thing and another she hadn’t gotten around to telling the hero about her little trick. 

She’d had to wear them everyday because Megamind could pounce at any time. The shoes were heavy, but seeing the shocked look on Megamind’s face had been so worth it.

She hadn’t succeeded in escaping his clutches, she never did, and he’d be on his guard next time so the trick wouldn’t work twice, but still she was quite proud of herself. 

Regaling her friend Wayne with the tale seemed the perfect way to start off movie night.

The hero’s brows knitted together in a frown. “Roxie, I can’t believe you did that,” he cried, spreading his hands. “He could have hurt you.”

She scoffed and held the shoe to her chest as if to protect it, surprised by his negative reaction. “Yeah, right! I’ve pepper-sprayed him, elbowed him, and thrown stuff at his head, he never retaliates. ‘A gentleman as well as a super-villain’,” she said, doing a fair imitation of the dastardly villain.

“I'm serious,” Metro Man said, dropping his hands into his lap. “In a hostage situation you cannot give the abductor an excuse to hurt you.”

“What am I supposed to do, just take it?” she snapped. “I have to fight back somehow!” 

“This is Megamind.” 

“Exactly.” She rolled her eyes and walked briskly across the apartment to scoop up the other pump. She carried them into the bedroom and shoved them into the shoe tree in her closet. 

 _What’s the big deal?_ she thought, feeling a scowl crease her own forehead. _Here I thought he’d get a - - ahaha - - kick out of it._

She went back to the kitchen. Metro Man was getting two sodas out of the fridge. He was dressed casually this evening, in a green polo shirt and blue jeans. This time he’d driven his Bentley to her place rather than flown. He liked driving once in a while, it relaxed him.

Long ago, when she was a rising star on the KMCP news team, they had gone out on three semi-serious dates. He’d kissed her after each one, but in sort of a perfunctory way, as if the good-night kiss was all part of the package. But even if he’d been the world’s greatest kisser it wouldn’t have mattered. Though she was flattered by the attention of the city’s hero, he really wasn’t her type.

She tried to let him down easy. He took it in stride, and said that he hoped they could still be friends. And meant it.

He was a good friend too, even if he was vain, egotistical, and sometimes overprotective. Like now.

“Just because he hasn’t hurt you yet doesn’t mean he can’t,” he said, putting one can on the table for her and popping the tab on the other. “You’re at his mercy. He's unpredictable.” Leaning against the counter he hooked a thumb in his pocket and lifted the can to his lips.

“Wayne, he is _incredibly_ predictable.” She began counting off on her fingers. “First, he kidnaps me, and gloats. Oh, God, does he gloat. Second, he brags about his stupid plan. Third, he gets on the airwaves and challenges you. Then he...”

Metro Man waved a hand to interrupt her. “You didn't hear what he did the other night, did you?”

Lips pressed together she sat down at the table and picked up her soda. “Of course I heard. Four guys stuck to telephone poles.”

 _“Stapled_ to telephone poles,” Metro Man said, waving a finger.

She jabbed a finger in the air too, to illustrate her point. “Through their piercings. It’s not like he put any _new_ holes in them.”

She’d been horrified by the news, until more details about the whole thing came out in later newspaper articles. After looking into the backgrounds of the victims, she began to feel like maybe Megamind had done everyone a favor.

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” Metro Man said with a scoff. “I was there, Roxanne, it wasn’t pretty. Two of ‘em by their ears, and one by his _nose_. That’s just sick.” He shuddered. “And the fourth guy didn’t have any piercings. He got his ear stapled to the pole anyway!”

“Oh, yeah. That was the rapist,” she said brightly.

“He was accused, never convicted.”

“Those charges were dropped because of technicalities.”

Metro Man gave her an incredulous look and then just shook his head. “That doesn’t make what Megamind did right.”

Roxanne crossed her arms. “Every one of those guys had rap sheets a mile long.” 

“That’s not the point.” 

The timer went off and Roxanne began to push her chair back but Metro Man waved at her to sit back down. “Naw, I’ll get ‘em.” Going to the oven he reached in and took out the pizzas.

Roxanne grimaced. “Wayne, could you use potholders? Geez, I almost feel like I’m getting burned just watching you.”

Wayne blinked at the two trays he held in his bare hands. For a moment his frown lightened as he gave her a wry grin. “Sorry. Where do you want these?”

Pizzas cut up and distributed, they sat at the table to continue the argument, the DVD they were supposed to be watching lying forgotten on top of the television.

“It wasn’t like Megamind was doing some secret vigilante work,” Wayne said. He could easily eat both pizzas, and faster too, so he paced himself and chewed slowly. “They were all members of Psycho Delic’s gang. They’ve been at each other’s throats for years.”

“So I’m guessing they weren’t hanging around the docks at three in the morning collecting donations for the Epilepsy Foundation,” Roxanne said, hacking her pizza slice with her fork.

“I can’t believe you’re defending him,” Metro Man said.

“I’m not,” Roxanne protested, grimacing. “I’m just...” She pressed her lips together in a thin line. She wasn’t defending Megamind, was she? “Just trying to make sense of it,” she muttered. “Mostly he just attacks _you.”_

“Whatever was going on, he did it for his own personal reasons, not because he wanted to do a favor for the Metro City PD. Probably a spat over turf.  His fancy ‘M’ logo was spray painted in blue on the nearest wall.” Metro Man swept his arm through the air as if to demonstrate the size. “And there were two brainbots in plain sight. Recording everything, I’ll bet.”

“You try following them?”

Metro Man shook his head and wrinkled his nose as if to show how useless it was to try to follow brainbots back to Evil Lair. Which it was. He’d tried. They just led him around in circles. 

Once he caught one and took it to a police station to see if they could put a tracer on it. The brainbot went berserk, firing lasers at everything in sight, and he’d been forced to destroy it. He f elt bad about that, though they were creepyy little things, and he didn’t try capturing any more.

“Like there’s not enough crime around,” he grumbled, tearing off a huge bite of pizza. His cheek bulged. “Idiots. They gotta fight over every stupid little...”

“Were those men badly hurt?” she asked, before he could get into a rant. She’d heard his views on the city’s super-villains before, many times. 

“Eh. They were pretty banged up, but they could walk. Once I got ‘em loose.”

“How? Laser vision?”

“One of the cops went into the Port Authority office and got a staple remover.”

Roxanne bit her lip to stifle an inappropriate giggle. She ducked her head, but Metro Man noticed.

“You actually think that’s funny?” he said. 

“Yeah, I do,” she snapped, irritated by his holier-than-thou attitude. She wasn’t going to lose much sleep over a bunch of thugs getting roughed up. “Why did they say they were there?” 

Metro Man shifted in his seat. “Just out for a walk, they said, when Megamind attacked them for no reason,” he said, his mouth quirking into a half grimace. 

“So you didn’t believe them,” she said, cocking her head.

Metro Man sighed. “Not really, no. Two of them had outstanding arrest warrants.” 

They chewed in silence for a while. Roxanne shoved the remains of her pizza around.

Metro Man twirled a piece of crust in his big fingers, then tossed it onto his plate. “Roxie, I didn’t mean to start an argument. I just worry.” 

He leaned his elbows on the table. Meeting her gaze, he shrugged, and gave her a disarming smile. “I mean, can you blame me? Don’t want to see you get dropped in the alligator pit or something. Who else would I share cheap frozen pizza with?”

His voice had become light and cheery. Unable to stay mad, she felt a grin twist her lips almost against her will. “Yeah, no one else’d put up with you and your super-charm. And I’ll have you know this is the best take-and-bake in the country. You’re not having too much trouble choking it down.”

Metro Man chuckled and picked up two more slices. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said cheerfully. “Where’d you get those shoes made?”

“Edna Mode.”

Metro Man’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair as he gaped at her. “Edna Mode? How’d you afford her? How’d you even get an appointment?”

Roxanne smirked and lowered her eyes, snagging another pizza slice with her hand. “I just asked.” Still smiling, she shrugged one shoulder modestly. “A special for the Damsel of Metro City.” She put her wrist on her forehead and let her head fall back, batting her eyes. “The hard part was getting her to quit. She wanted to make me shoes with spring-loaded knives, shoes with cameras, all kinds of hardware.”

Metro Man finished off another slice in two gulps. “Guess I’m not the only charmer around here.”

“You should have her design something for you.”

Metro Man looked alarmed. “No way! I’m keeping my cape.”

They watched the romantic comedy that Wayne had picked out. It fell short on both fronts so they spent more time making fun of it than watching it. If it were any other guy she would have suspected him of picking a movie to please her in hopes of a romantic entanglement with her later. But this was Wayne.

The rest of the eveniing passed pleasantly enough, though they avoided any further discussion of Megamind’s dangerous or not-dangerous actions towards her.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Despite all the weapons Megamind pointed at her head on a near-weekly basis, she simply couldn't believe he wished her any real harm. A real villain could easily have committed all sorts of vile acts against her. 

Quite frankly, he reminded her of her little brother Nate, back when they were kids and he got into the habit one summer of following her around and trying to hit her with water balloons. 

After they were both safely in adulthood, she grilled Nate about it, and he looked surprised by the question.

“I had to get you to pay attention to me somehow,” Nate said, grinning.

Yes, Megamind reminded her of Nate. Except Megamind's interest in her was not exactly brotherly. 

That thought actually caused a smile to tug at her mouth, and she sucked her lips in.

 _What is wrong with me?_ she chided herself. Surely she wasn't flattered by Megamind's attention. _It has been way too long since my last date._

Late one afternoon as she was finishing up a set of interview questions for the deputy mayor, Metro Man's chauffeur, Phil Spencer, came to her cubicle.

“Good afternoon, Miss Ritchi,” Spencer said with a smile.

Roxanne gave him a smile in return. “Hi, Phil. What are you doing here?”

“Please, Miss Ritchi, call me Spencer,” he corrected gently with a little half bow. “I have a message for you,” he said, and handed her an envelope.

Roxanne opened it and took out a creamy white card embossed with swirling gold letters.

_You are cordially invited to a lovely, candlelit dinner, catered by Romano’s._

“So what's the occasion?” she asked, looking up at the limo driver.

“I'm afraid he didn't say, Miss Ritchi. My orders were just to pick you up and bring you to dinner.”

Roxanne’s forehead tightened. Wayne usually didn't do stuff like this anymore unless he were trying to give someone else the impression that they were a hot item. His mother, maybe. Lady Scott was a sweet lady, and she liked Roxanne a lot. Metro Man never had the guts to tell his mom the truth.

She shouldn't feel too superior. She didn't quite have the guts to tell her own mother about the truth of their relationship either.

Maybe he was paying her back for dinner, and trying to make up for the disagreement they'd had last week as well, though this was a pretty flamboyant apology, whisking her away for a surprise dinner. But maybe he felt guilty. He knew how much she hated being treated like some fainting maiden.

 _A little warning would have been nice,_ she thought irritably. He should have called her to make sure it was all right.

She ran her thumb over the gold lettering, and glanced at Spencer from under her lashes. 

It was the same old Phil Spencer, with neatly pressed suit and clean-scrubbed face. Megamind never hired anyone else to do his dirty work anyway, it was always him or Minion who grabbed her.

Unless...he'd put Spencer under some sort of mind control drug and...

She shook her head. _I am getting way too paranoid._ Besides, Spencer looked fine, brown eyes clear, his manner deferential, the same as always. He nodded at her coworkers as they strolled by, murmuring “Afternoon,” and “Hi there.” He actually seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

Quite frankly, she preferred to have Minion come after her. Megamind had a tendency to drag it out, with an 'Ah ha, my proud vixen, so you thought you could escape my clutches!' or some crap like that. Minion always knocked her out right away.

 _I must be going insane._ Now she was beginning to rank her kidnappers on a scale. Speed of rendering victim unconscious, effectiveness of rope tying, degree of infuriating monologue...well, Megamind was on a level all by himself with that one.

Hal stuck his head around the corner with a big grin. “Goin’ to dinner, huh? You think you could score a doggie bag?”

Roxanne felt her neck tense. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said, grabbing a random stack of papers off the desk and sending off as many ‘I am extremely busy’ vibes as possible.

“Gotcha.” Hal gave her a big wink and pointed at her, making a gun shape with his hand and clicking his tongue. “So, you’re a limo driver,” he said, turning to Spencer. “Must be a cushy job.”

Spencer blinked. “Oh, yeah. I guess. I drive a lot. Drive all over.”

Roxanne frowned at the papers in her hand, which turned out to be some promotional material for a new country club being built on the outskirts of the city. For a moment she was tempted to file it in the wastebasket, but with a supressed sigh she put it in the inbox. News was news, even if it was just another playground for the rich and famous.

“So what’s it like, working for the Scotts?” Hal asked. “I’ll bet you make loads of dough.”

“Uh...well, I, uh...”

“I’m ready to go,” Roxanne said loudly. She shut down the computer and snatched up her purse, fairly shooting out of the cubicle.

Spencer looked relieved. “Right this way, Miss Ritchi,” he said, walking briskly to the nearest exit.

“Don’t forget that doggie bag, Roxie!” Hal called.

 


	2. Taken for a Ride

  
Minion hummed AC/DC's song “TNT” under his breath as he turned the wheel and navigated through traffic, being careful to keep it at the speed limit. He was so used to zipping around in the invisible car at whatever speed he felt like, he needed to pay attention.

  
He was feeling good, and more than a little proud. He'd followed Phil Spencer around for three days to study the driver's mannerisms, and had even found out a few of his quirks, such as his preference for being called by his last name while on the job. Or maybe the Scotts preferred it, Minion wasn't too clear on that, but the important thing was he knew about it, and it helped give his disguise more authenticity.

  
It was handy that he and Phil Spencer pretty much had the same eye color, though in his experience most people didn't notice stuff like that, unless one had unusually bright eyes like Sir had.

  
Picking up Miss Ritchi had been a breeze. A little jaunt across town, then he'd escort her to the private club at which the top floor had been reserved, and the boss would take it from there.

  
Megamind had been very definite about not holding her against her will, but Minion figured he'd stick around for a few minutes in case Miss Ritchi made a break for it. Sir would have a tough time winning her over if she was busy trying to climb out the window. Or kicking him in the shins, as she sometimes did.

  
Minion would restrain her if he had to, but he hoped he didn't. Miss Ritchi was very bright. Her real power lay in her voice and her cleverness, not to mention she was such a nice lady. Minion felt like they could be friends, if it wasn't for the whole tying-her-up business. Also, she had a certain commanding presence, like if she told you to do something then she fully expected you to do it. And since Minion usually couldn't do what she asked, he always felt pretty rotten about it later.

  
Even tied to a chair, she was dangerous. Minion winced, thinking about all the times he'd flapped his jaw, answering her nosy questions without a second thought. Secretly he was a little nervous if he ever had to be left alone with Miss Ritchi. Sir was so much better at dealing with her than he was.

  
If, after hearing Sir's exclusive proposition, she wanted to leave, then Minion's orders were to take her back immediately. Roxanne Ritchi would be a willing participant, Megamind had declared, not a hostage. Tricking her into this meeting was merely a means to an end.

  
Sir was really being very generous. Minion was relieved that Sir had given up on the hypnosis, and the mind control drug. As Megamind said, such things would make her into little more than a mindless drone, and only a fully aware Roxanne Ritchi would be suitable to be his Evil Queen.

  
\- - - - - - - - - -

  
Roxanne put her make-up case away and sat back with a sigh, opening up a bottle of water from the little fridge. After a moment she took out the invitation again. “It doesn't say where,” she said.

  
“Pinewood Dining Club,” Spencer said over his shoulder.

  
Roxanne was taken aback. The old dining club on the edge of town? That was practically in the next county. “Pretty far out of the way, isn't it?”

  
“Well, you know, I think he wanted to try something a little different.”

  
Another little twang of uneasiness, like she'd felt back in her cubicle, curled in her stomach. She took out her cell phone to call Wayne and ask him what the hell was going on.

  
No signal. Which could mean nothing. The limo phone was on a panel next to the mini bar. She picked it up but it was dead. Her uneasiness intensified.

  
“Spencer, could you pull over? I need to make a call and there's no signal.”

  
“We'll be there soon, Miss Ritchi, if you could...”

  
She felt her jaw tighten. “Pull over now, Spencer.”

  
Spencer made a quick movement, and a black divider shot up between the front and back seats with tremendous speed.

  
_I knew it!_ Furious, she pounded on the divider. “Megamind, you let me out of here right now!” she shouted.

  
\- - - - - - - - -

  
Minion pulled into a deserted park and screeched to a halt. He didn't know who she wanted to call, but with that sharp tone in her voice, he'd sensed that the jig was up. What if she'd called her real boyfriend? Minion would be in the same mess now, only with Metro Man looking for them.

  
When he turned off the ignition and got out, she shouted at him again. “Megamind, you bastard. What have you done with Spencer?”

  
Minion stepped away from the vehicle. Not good. The boss was expecting an unruffled Roxanne Ritchi, not a ticked off, shin-kicking hostage.  
_I could knock her out. No, that'd have to be a last resort. He wants her conscious._

  
He glanced around. Though two other cars were in the lot, no one was in sight. He edged over to the limo, turning off the disguise generator. Leaning in through the driver's side, he let the divider down an inch. “Um, it's me, Miss Ritchi.”

  
“Minion,” she said in a low, deadly voice. “Where is Spencer?”

  
“He's all right. Nothing's happened to him. Not dehydrated or locked away or anything.”

  
“No mind control drug?” Miss Ritchi's voice was edged with suspicion.

  
“No, no drugs. I mean, I don't know his personal life all that...”

  
“Then who was driving?” she snapped. “Or _what_ was driving?”

  
Minion swam around in a nervous little circle. _I can't tell her about the holo-watch. That's top-secret information. If she ever found out about it..._ “I can't tell you,” he said in a quavery voice. She opened her mouth and Minion talked fast before she could ask another nosy question and worm the answer out of him. “But Spencer's fine, I swear. Please, Miss Ritchi, this isn't a kidnapping.”

  
“Yeah, this is nothing like a kidnapping. Care to explain why I'm locked in the back of a limosine?”

  
Minion wrung his hands. “I'll...I'll tell you some of it, but you have to promise to come with me. There's no plot to take over the city today. Really!”

  
Miss Ritchi appeared to be thinking about it. “Let me out first.”

  
Minion swam in a circle again, biting his lip. “Promise you won't try to run away?”

  
“Fine,” she growled, rolling her eyes.

  
He unlocked the door and she stepped out, looking very ruffled indeed. She crossed her arms and tossed her bangs out of her eyes with an angry flick of her head.

  
“He just wants to talk to you, Miss Ritchi.” Minion spread his hands with a nervous grin to show that he was unarmed and had no knock-out spray or forget-me stick. “Have a regular conversation, without the kidnapping drama going on.”

  
“All of this, because he wants to talk. That's not very much information, Minion. I'm going to need a little more.”

  
Minion wrung his hands together. “Please, Miss Ritchi, I really can't say any more. But!” he said brightly, lifting his finger to make his point, “if you don't like what he has to say, I'm supposed to bring you right back to KCMP, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

  
She gave him a sideways look and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Just like that?”

  
“Cross my heart and hope to die, I promise,” Minion said, tracing an 'X' on his metal chest. “At least you could come for the free meal. There's lasagna.”

  
That gave her pause. “This dinner is really getting catered by Romano's?”

  
Minion nodded quickly.

  
“Hm.” Roxanne pursed her lips. “Dessert?”

  
“Tiramisu.”

  
Roxanne looked around at the lot, closed in by trees. A free lasagna and tiramisu meal from Romano's was not to be thrown lightly away.

  
Minion shuffled his big feet and twined his fingers together, anxiously watching for her reaction. Damn. She had a soft spot for Minion. And he was her ride back. Besides, she had no doubt that he would knock her out if he had to, or forcibly put her back in the limo, with many stammered apologies, because he always did what Megamind told him.

  
As loathe as she was to go along with any of Megamind's plans, she had to admit her curiosity was awakened. The limo, the fancy invitation, a private dinner, it all hinted pretty strongly at the subject Megamind wanted to discuss with her.

  
All that flirting had gone to Megamind's head. It must have gone to her head, too, because now she wondered what would happen if they sat down and had a normal conversation. It could be... all right. Maybe even pleasant.

  
“Okay, Minion. I'll play along. He better have a good explanation.” She began to get back in.

  
“Um, if you could maybe pretend to be surprised...”

  
She shot him a glare.

  
He backed away. “Okay! That's a 'no', then.”

  
\- - - - - - - - - - -

  
Megamind paced around the table, moving the flower centerpiece over to the buffet.

  
After another lap he moved it back, took the place setting from one end of the long table and put it at the corner next to the other, so when Miss Ritchi came they would be sitting at right angles to each other. Having them sit at opposite ends of the table was ridiculous, he now realized. Not very intimate. They'd practically have to use an intercom to communicate.

  
One of the brainbots, bored with waiting, drifted out from behind the cabinet.

  
He snapped his fingers at it. “Back! Or you're out of here.” Reluctantly it floated back to its brethren.

  
Megamind stalked around the room again, reaching for his cape so he could sweep it about in his irritation, but his hand groped at the air and he made a fist. He didn't have a cape this evening, but wore a suit.

  
Not a tux, because he didn't want Roxanne to feel underdressed. The suit was an expensive cut, with a dark blue shirt and a black tie. He'd found a great tie with a magnificent lightning bolt on it, but Minion claimed it looked tacky, and made him wear a dull black one with the most boring twill pattern.

  
He rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't like having his neck bare. He felt so exposed. But every time he so much as touched the lapels, Minion would spin in his bowl and glower at him, as if the henchfish had somehow become psychically linked to the suit he'd worked so hard to tailor to his ward's lean frame, and sensed when Megamind was about to desecrate it by popping up the collar.

  
Megamind adjusted the tie. He was getting as bored and impatient as the brainbots.

  
The food waited, steaming, kept warm at the buffet, the wine was chilled to perfection, and the 'bots were ready to serve. His guest of honor was unforgivably late. He would have something to say to Minion about that. The candles were almost half burned already. He kept himself from calling Minion, but it was an effort.

  
Nothing could possibly have gone wrong. A beautiful, tastefully brief invitation from her super-powered loverboy, the familiar Scott driver, the classy limo, nothing could possibly have gone wrong.

  
He imagined her reaction and a smile tugged at his lips. She'd breeze in expecting to see Metro Mahn, and then she'd gasp at the sight of Megamind, her eyes going wide. Anger and confusion would give way to wary admiration as she took in the chin ware and his suave, non-villainous outfit...

  
Oh, music! He almost forgot. Seizing the remote he clicked through smooth jazz, New Age, classical, and finally settled on Brubeck's “Take Five.”

  
He heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and hurried to stand by the door. No, that made him seem too eager. He dashed to the chair at the head of the table and leaned back in it, steepling his fingers in front of his chest and adopting a lazy smile.

  
Roxanne strode through the double doors and tossed her purse onto the table. “All right, spill it. What's this all about?” She crossed her arms and glared at him.

  
He blinked at her. Where was the shock at his appearance? Where was the wondering awe?

  
He realized his mouth was open slightly and shut it. He looked toward the entrance, face hardening, but Minion was already ducking back out, shutting the doors.

  
“Don't you dare take it out on Minion,” she said, jabbing a finger at him. She sniffed and crossed her arms again. “I was too smart for you. Again.”

  
He pressed his lips together and shook his head. So much for the element of surprise. He felt a grudging admiration. Somehow she had seen through the ruse. Just the sort of woman who ought to reign at his side. Fooling her was getting more difficult all the time.

  
He would question Minion closely about what had gone wrong. But later.

  
“So glad you could join me, Miss Ritchi. Care for a glass?” he said, getting to his feet and picking up the bottle.

  
“Some of us have to work, you know. Just tell me what this is about so I can get out of here. Minion said there was no evil plot, so...” She waved her hand and smiled brightly. “He claimed you had something to say, and that I'm free to go if I want, so talk fast.”

  
Megamind felt his jaw clench. That silly fish could hardly keep any secrets from Roxanne. He'd turn the whole Lair over to her if she asked. “I'll be completely honset with you.”

  
“Except for tricking me?”

  
“Please have a seat. Won't you eat with me?” He lifted a cover. “Hate to see it go to waste.”

  
As if on cue, her stomach growled. “No more tricks? No drugs in the food or anything?”

  
“I'll be eating the same things so I certainly hope not,” he said with a smile. He gestured at the chairs.

  
She shrugged. “All right. Guess I'll get a decent meal out of this.”

  
\- - - - - - - - - -

  
“Now what?” she said, wiping her mouth. A sizable portion of lasagna was still on her plate. It was tough not to scarf it all down, but her stomach was comfortably full and she wanted to leave room for the tiramisu. She was definitely going to take the rest home.

  
They'd spent the meal concentrating on eating, and getting waited on by some very well-behaved brainbots. Occasionally she or Megamind would make an appreciative comment about the food. It was the most inane talk they'd ever had, but the air hummed with a tension that was rather pleasant.

  
She had watched Megamind from the corner of her eye and was amused to see him doing the same to her.

  
Megamind picked up his wine glass. “At a certain point in life, a man starts to think of settling down. To put it bluntly, I think you're wasted on that flying boy scout. Despite his fantastic powers and wealth, I can offer you far more, starting with witty and scintillating conversation. I mean, really, what you and Metro Mahn talk about? His perfect hair? His latest toothpaste endorsement?”

  
She leaned her elbows on the table. Megamind was under the impression that she and Metro Man were a couple, just like everyone else. “Oh, you know. Normal things. None of it's any of your business.” Her real reason for hiding the truth was between her and Wayne, though she wished he would be more honest. Hero he might be, but he was subject to some all too normal insecurities.

  
Megamind swirled the wine around in his glass. “I think we're well matched. It would be worthwhile to... explore the possibilities. Will you consider going out with me?”

  
To his relief she didn't laugh in his face, though she did snort. “Wow, you make it so tempting. Especially since you tie me up every chance you get.”

  
“You're not tied up now. We could get to know each other under more ordinary circumstances.”

  
She smiled but her eyes were hard. “I don't think I can stand any more togetherness.”

  
Ah, now was the time to sweeten the pot. He watched her from over the rim of the glass. “I'll stop kidnapping you.”

  
He felt a little jolt of glee at her narrow-eyed speculative look.

  
“For good?” she said suspiciously.

  
He shrugged, putting down the glass and steepling his fingers. “For the duration of the dating period. We can put it in writing, if you like.”

  
“Are you suggesting a contract? This is some kind of Evil Queen thing, isn't it?”

  
“Nothing gets past you, Miss Ritchi. I have many qualities a woman would find desirable. Loyalty, financial stability...”

  
“Ha!”

  
“Maybe not on the level of Lord Moneybags, but I'm well-off.”

  
“Yeah, I'll bet. Ill-gotten gains.”

  
“Not all of it. And how do you think the Scotts made their millions? On the backs of laborers. Scheming and plotting in the world of business has an ee-vil quality all its own. I have my own home...”

  
“You mean the lair, or your permanent digs at the prison?”

  
“The lair, of course. I'm devilishly handsome, and...” He cleared his throat. “Physically fit, and once I conquer the city then you will, as you've surmised, rule at my side as Evil Queen. What do you say?”

  
She settled back and ran her finger around the rim of her water glass. He'd skated over the bit about being 'physically fit' pretty quickly, and she hadn't missed the slight blush over his cheekbones, though that might have been because of the wine.

  
She let her gaze flicker over him. He sat back in the chair, at ease, elbows on the armrests and blue fingertips pressed together in typical ee-vil fashion, one leg crossed over the other. He did look good in a suit. This was the first time she'd seen his bare hands.

  
She'd checked him out from time to time during the lengthy kidnappings, figuring she might as well get something out of it for her trouble. Megamind was easy on the eye. When she'd commented on his skin-tight outfit he'd primly replied that it was traditional supervillain attire that provided ease of movement, withstood heat of up to one thousand degrees Fahrenheit, and distributed the force of blows to minimize their impact, which made it ideal for battle.

  
Roxanne noticed how his eyes followed the movement of her finger around the glass rim. She picked it up and slowly put it to her lips, watching him from under lowered eyelids.

  
This could get interesting.

  
“How long of a dating period are we talking about here?” she asked.

  
\- - - - - - - - - -

  
Minion padded up the stairs from time to time to listen. Sir and Miss Ritchi were talking and eating, and once in a while a chuckle floated down. It sounded promising. She hadn't thrown anything at Sir's head or shouted at him. There was no sound of breaking crockery.

  
He felt a swell of happiness in his little heart. Sir's plan was working. As Minion had hoped it would, because you'd have to blind not to notice how Sir and Miss Ritchi pretended they weren't looking at each other.

  
One of the things that Minion worried about was Metro Man, because even good guys could take it pretty hard when their girl dumped them for someone else, especially if that someone else was their hated rival and nemesis.

  
So many worries. Minion shook himself. He shouldn't be eavesdropping. Sometimes you just had to let things happen. He went down to the limo to re-read his dog-eared copy of The Hunger Games.


	3. The Contract

“How about a year? That seems about right.”

“An entire year until the next kidnapping? Too long, Miss Ritchi.”

“Hey, I'm just trying to make up for the past FIVE YEARS of getting knocked out.”

“I'm not letting you off the hook for a whole year just for one date. Three months.”

“I'd have to go out with someone longer than that before I decide if I'll marry him.”

“By the time I'm through with you, you'll be begging to marry me.”

“Maybe it should be a set number. How about...” Roxanne drummed her fingers on the table. “A time period of six months, with one date per week.”

“Four dates per week.”

“Too many.”

Megamind stroked his chin. “Hm. Maybe it is. I suppose you still have to make time for Mr. Goody Two-shoes.”

Roxanne tilted her head with a slight frown, then nodded. “Oh, right. Right. So. Um, one date per week over six months, and we can set more if we feel like it. Time allowing.”

“Fair enough. What about make-up dates? We better write this down.” To her amusement, he ducked under the tablecloth and pulled out a briefcase, popped it open, and took out a yellow legal pad.

“Make-up dates?” she said, as he began to write.

“If one of us is indisposed, then there has to be two dates the following week.”

“You mean if you're in the slammer?” She snorted. “Nope. Miss it one week, it's gone for good. I don't want a bunch of dates piling up.”

“They won't pile up so much,” he said without looking up. “I haven't been locked up for longer than twenty-three days since I was fifteen.”

She shrugged. “Fine. But any make-up dates still need to be spaced out some.”

His heart beat a little faster and a pleased smile stretched across his face. She had a little streak of ee-vil in her after all if she was willing to date him behind Metro Mahn's back.

“Exactly how legally binding is this contract?” she asked. “You going to get your evil lawyer to look it over?”

“I think we can use the honor system, don't you?” he said. He looked at her sideways. “Unless you would prefer a lawyer to...”

She waved her hand. “Oh, I guess not. Fine. The honor system, then. Sure you can follow the rules?”

“When it suits my purposes,” he said, and bent over the legal pad again.

She realized she was grinning and took a drink of water to stop it. So it was to be an actual dating contract with her abductor. _Former_ abductor. Abductions were in abeyance until further notice.

She thought about that for a moment. Was she fooling herself? Had she developed a false, and completely inappropriate, connection to her kidnapper? If any of her friends told her they'd decided to go out with a man who kidnapped them, she'd have advised them to find a good therapist. That was what Wayne would say.

Something hardened within her. The future stretched out before her, empty of any decent dating prospects, but full of nice, friendly movie nights with her buddy Wayne.

It was a mean, sour thought. Wayne would be concerned about her, that was all, she shouldn't think badly of him...

Her jaw tightened. Oh, but it was to his advantage, wasn't it, if she just sat on her butt in her apartment night after night. She'd made a little deal with Wayne because it had seemed like a good idea at the time, and it had been great for her career. Her star had skyrocketed, hitched to the great Metro Man.

She idly ran her hand over her shoulder and watched Megamind scribbling away. She felt no sense of fear or anxiety. _I'll bet I can handle him._

His fingernails were clean and neatly trimmed, and she found herself admiring the curve of his neck. She looked away when he glanced up, and hoped he hadn't noticed her staring.

“Any other terms and conditions, Miss Ritchi? Any...requests?” His voice was silky.

She leaned her elbows on the table, pushing the plate back. “I want a few rules written into this contract. First of all, I expect honesty.”

“Of course.” He sat back, spreading his hands in a magnanimous gesture. “Whatever you want to know about me, I'll do my best to answer. But until you've declared your allegiance to ee-vil, I hope you'll understand if I keep certain activities secret.” He picked up his glass.

She smiled gently. “Certain activities. Your other girlfriends?”

He almost spat wine across the table. “No!” he sputtered. “There aren't any other...what do you take me for?” He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth. “I was referring to my numerous criminal enterprises, some of which might provide you with a moral quandry should you learn of them.”

She propped her chin in her hand. “I thought you overlord wannabes were just covered in women. Mistresses. Harems.”

He let out an outraged laugh. _“Harems?_ I'd like to know where you get your information, Miss Ritchi. Well, I'm not like that,” he said, glaring at her. “I did say that loyalty was one of my qualities.”

“So one girl at a time, then,” she said, nodding.

He looked away. “Yep, that's right,” he said curtly. He didn't feel like elaborating. He hadn't had any girlfriends with whom he could be loyal to, but he was certain he would have been. If he'd had any. Which he hadn't.

Was this even an appropriate topic of conversation? How many women started off a date by demanding to know about previous girlfriends? She could be having fun at his expense.

There was a little smile on her face. She picked up her water glass and he waited until she took a sip before opening his own line of inquiry. “And how many boyfriends have you had?” _See how she likes getting interrogated._

To his annoyance she didn't even come close to spraying her drink across the table. “I've gone out with a few guys,” she said. “Two serious boyfriends.”

He felt his face growing hot and took a too-large gulp of wine. Serious boyfriends. Lovers, then? Wasn't that what people usually meant? One of those lovers might be Metro Mahn. Unless they'd decided to wait. He hoped so. He might have a hard time competing against whatever super fantastical lovemaking skills his arch-nemesis possessed.

His brain took the opportunity to torture him with images of Roxanne moaning in Metro Jerk's arms.

It was going to be difficult to not appear as some pitiable virgin to whom she'd have to show the ropes. He had an uneasy feeling that sexual prowess wasn't something you could fake your way through, or that could be learned from a book or the internet. Supposedly it wasn't the main thing that women looked for in a man, but obviously it played some role in a relationship. How big a role?

Perhaps it was time to steer the conversation away from this uncomfortable subject.

“Honesty is a two-way street, Miss Ritchi,” he said. “I certainly hope you're not thinking about worming information about my ee-vil plans out of me and delivering them to the hands of justice.”

She gave an incredulous laugh. “Are you serious? You think I'd so something so underhanded?”

He sniffed and examined his fingernails. “You're a damsel. It's sort of your thing, isn't it? Trick the villain into falling in love with you, swindle his secrets out of him, turn him over to the cops or the hero. It's happened before.” To stupider villains than himself, of course. He would not fall into such traps.

“Hey, I'm not that kind of damsel,” she snapped. “I was talking about honesty in the relationship. I don't give a damn about your stupid plans.”

“Fine,” he said shortly.

“Besides, need I remind you that _you_ are the one that who brought _me_ here,” she said. “If you're that worried about betrayal, you should have thought of that earlier. Here's another rule.”

“What a surprise,” he muttered.

She bristled. What did he mean by that? “You have to respect my boundaries,” she said. “Stop breaking into my apartment. Knock at the door. If I'm not home or don't answer, leave. Like a normal person. Anything else, you're a stalker and the deal's off.”

“When did you become a cop?” he said with a sneer. “I don't need a lecture on privacy. What if you're lying on the floor unconscious because you fell off a ladder? Or had a brain aneurysm?”

“Oh, well, in that case,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Use your best judgment. It's easy. Think about what a decent person would do, and then do it. And don't get me involved in any crimes.”

“Jaywalking? Littering?”

“Ha ha. Like breaking and entering. Stolen goods. No gifts that are the result of the ol' five finger discount.”

“And what about the good-night kiss?” he asked. As long as she was making all these demands he ought to get one or two in himself.

“So it's that kind of date, huh?”

He stuck out his jaw. “It wouldn't go any further. A good-night kiss is traditional, isn't it?”

“Only if the date goes well.”

“Well, I think it should be written up in the contract. With a full hug.” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her defiantly.

She chuckled in spite of herself. He was getting huffy just because she was insisting on a couple of rules that would've been so obvious to a normal guy that they wouldn't even need to be stated. Or maybe he was pouting because she said his plans were stupid. It was hard to believe this was the same guy who had a bunch of other guys stapled to telephone poles. He probably made Minion and the brainbots do it. “And what, may I ask, is a full hug?"

“Oh, you know. With some actual physical contact. Not one of those fake shoulder-touching hugs like... well, like this.”

Reaching over he seized her shoulders and pulled her toward him as he leaned forward. She stiffened as their heads came side to side and his shoulder brushed against her collar bone, but he released her quickly.

“Like that,” he said. “Fake hug. So I want a real one. And I expect a decent kiss on the lips, not a little peck on the cheek.”

“In normal dating protocol,” she said. “The woman has the right to decide if the date went well enough to warrant a good-night kiss.”

He gave her what he probably thought was a smoldering look. “By the end of the evening you will be more than eager, I'm sure.”

She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “I guess I can allow it. But no tongue. And no copping a feel. Write that down.”

She nibbled at the food on her plate while he scribbled down all the terms and conditions, and thought of something else. “So what's the penalty for breaking the terms?”

He sat back, rolling the pen between his fingers. “You raise a very intriguing point, Miss Ritchi.”

“Okay, you're going to have to stop calling me Miss Ritchi.”

He smiled. “Easily done, Miss... Roxanne. How about, if one of us breaks a rule, the other must perform a favor of the offended party's choosing.”

“But no sexual favors.”

“Well, I can see what's on _your_ mind,” he said with a smirk. “Must it be written down? I'd never try to force you into a compromising position.” He gave her sly look. “Especially since it would hardly be a penalty.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I'm not the rulebreaker around here. It's purely for your benefit. And yeah. Write it down.” She tapped the legal pad.

“Very well. If you're so worried.” He wrote for a while longer. “I'll have Minion type this up and send you a copy.” He lifted his wrist and spoke into what she'd assumed was a watch. “I need you up here, Minion.”

The pounding on the stairs made it sound like a whole horde of henchfish were rushing up. Minion burst through the door on all fours, just like a real gorilla. Roxanne bit her lip to keep from smiling. He looked so distraught, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings.

Minion stared at them for a moment, then stood on two legs again and cleared his throat, brushing off his hands. “Everything okay?”

“Of course it is,” Megamind said, a slight frown wrinkling his brows. “Why wouldn't it be? Return Miss Ritchi to her workplace. Our business here is completed. In a very satisfactory manner, I must say,” he added with a purr.

Up to that point she'd been thinking about giving him a kiss to seal the agreement, but he had such a smug look on his face that she changed her mind. “Minion, are there any take-out containers? I'd like to take the rest of this lasagna."

“Yeah, I think there're some over here.” Minion boxed her leftovers.

Megamind stood as she got up and stepped toward her, an expectant gleam in his eye. Oh, so he'd been thinking about a possible kiss, too. She put her hand on his chest. “This doesn't count as a date. This was a business meeting,” she said. Taking a step back she stuck out her right hand.

He smiled. Business meeting? Not quite. He grasped her hand and shook it once dutifully, then with a slight bow, lifted it to his lips and planted a quick kiss on the back of it.

He stared at her hand. He'd meant to treat her to another smoldering look but the warmth of her skin made his heart pound. He didn't dare look up, because he had a feeling he was currently wearing the expression of a stunned ox, but he couldn't stand there forever, bowing over her hand.

This was getting awkward. She was probably smirking at him with a knowing smile, basking in her power. She wouldn't overpower him that easily! He attempted to arrange his features into a smirk of his own.

He met her gaze and almost forgot to breathe. Her eyes were wide, and bright, and so beautiful. Her soft lips parted slightly. It would be such a simple matter to put his hand around the small of her back and draw her close...he'd seen it in movies a million times...

Minion cleared his throat and he blinked at the hovering henchfish. “Uh, ready to go, Miss Ritchi?”

“Yes!” she squeaked, yanking her hand away. She whirled and her hip collided with the chair, almost knocking it over. She grabbed her purse and take-out box. “Ready to go. So, next week?”

Megamind swallowed and smoothed the front of his suit. “Uhhh, yes. Yes, of course. I'll be in touch.”

Swiftly she walked out the door and down the stairs.

Megamind fell back into his chair with a heavy exhalation and took a swig straight from the bottle. Operation: Marriage Proposal was off to an extremely interesting start.


	4. Fine Print

Roxanne received an email the next afternoon. She noticed it while she was at her desk, from an unfamiliar email, ‘egenius3000.’

She glanced around. She really ought to wait until she got home so she could read it privately. Curiosity and, it must be admitted, excitement, got the better of her.

Sure enough, it was from Megamind, with the contract typed into the body of the email. ‘Go over the contract carefully to ensure there are no misunderstandings, my dear Roxanne. Feel free to make additions, substitutions, clarifications, etc., though we both need to be in agreement.’

Roxanne bit her lip as a silly grin stretched across her face. Getting so pleased just because he’d called her ‘my dear Roxanne’ was not going to assist her in this war.

She blushed a little when she thought about how she’d rushed from the room after he kissed her hand. She almost wished he’d been smirking or leering. She could’ve handled that. It would have been part of the combative flirting they so often engaged in. She knew all the steps of that little dance. Yes, she could handle that much more easily than that intense, passionate look he’d given her.

She read it carefully, smiling when she saw that he’d assigned her the title of Person A, and himself as Person B. ‘Person A has stressed the importance of honesty, and so Persons A and B will have to do their best, though as Person B has pointed out before, there are certain business matters which simply cannot be discussed, and it is hoped that Person A will not attempt to exercise her nosy reporter skills in this area.’

Roxanne rolled her eyes. When she got to the part about the good-night kiss, she frowned. Mandatory kiss after every date? She thought it was just supposed to be after the first date, not every single one. She clicked the cursor above the contested sentence and typed in her objection, then continued reading.

‘In the event of either Person A or B violating the conditions of the contract (except for reasonable excuses, such as being unable to keep a date due to being unavoidably detained at work)...’

“Or getting your butt hauled off to prison,” she murmured. She thought about writing that in for the hell of it, but then decided that getting taken to jail was part of Megamind’s usual work routine, in a way, so there probably wasn’t a need to point it out.

‘... the offended party has the right to demand and receive a favor from the violater, but not sexual favors. A comprehensive list of prohibited activities was going to be included in this document, but Minion (hereafter known as Person C) claims that such a list would be vulgar and unnecessary. However Person B thinks that there must be some kind of definition, because who knows what Person A will think of as a sexual favor? If a violation occurs, Persons A and B could end up arguing about it all night.’

Roxanne rolled her eyes again. Was this his way of trying to find out if she had some unusual fetish?

‘To make it simple,' he wrote, 'perhaps the penalty favor should not include any physical contact, though sadly this would take massages off the list. Thoughts?’

Roxanne fanned herself with a manila envelope, exhaling slowly. She thought about Megamind’s nimble hands with their neatly trimmed nails kneading her shoulders.

Would Megamind intentionally violate the agreement so he could be in a position to do her a ‘favor’? That would be just the sort of sneaky, manipulative thing he _might_ do, but she didn’t think he’d intentionally put himself at risk of whatever wrathful penalty she might devise. He wasn’t that masochistic. He would have no way of knowing if she would ask for a massage, or if she’d make him clean her apartment floors with a toothbrush.

She smiled. She was already anticipating getting revenge on him for whatever mistake he’d make. It wasn’t like _she_ had anything to worry about. She made a space in the document and typed ‘I think massages should be allowed. But only neck, shoulders, and feet.’

Her eyebrows went up at the next section.

‘In the event that Person A is invited to the Evil Lair, she must agree to wear a blindfold during travel, and can only remove it once she is in the Lair proper, so its location remains secret. It is a security measure that must be maintained, until such time as Person A proves herself trustworthy. Person C has made one out of cotton, and promises to wash it on a regular basis.’

So, she might get to see the Lair. Really see it, not just the little glimpses she’d had while tied to the kidnapping chair. That was kind of sobering. He’d probably keep close tabs on her and not let her wander around on her own, but allowing her into his private space where his evil plans were conducted showed how far he was willing to go to win her over.

She leaned back in her chair, chewing on the end of her pen. What was she expecting to happen during this dating phase? She was hoping that their attraction was more than physical, but if it went badly it was going to be a miserable time for both of them. He might insist on going through with the dates for the full six months, right to the bitter end.

She chewed the pen for a little while, and then added another sentence:  'If the situation deteriorates to a point where either Person A or B wants to break it off, then she or he has the right to do so.'

There. That ought to do it.

She sent the email back. Before long, she got the reply.

‘It was understood there would be a kiss after EVERY date. I’ve replayed the recording, at no time did you say there’d be a good-night kiss after only the first date. If you like, I can send you a copy.’

Roxanne felt her blood pressure shoot up. He’d recorded their conversation?! She typed back:  ‘Here’s another condition: QUIT TAPING OUR CONVERSATIONS WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE. NO AUDIO, NO VIDEO. And you are not guaranteed ANYTHING. If you try to guilt me into giving you something you think you deserve, you’re no better than any of the other lowlifes I’ve dated. In fact, strike the kissing clause. I sure as hell don’t feel like EVER kissing you.’

She hit ‘send’ and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the screen. How dare he! Did he record everything? She felt her face grow hot. Did he record the kidnappings? The battles with Metro Man, sure, he sent images of himself in ‘glorious battle’ all over the damn place, and the media coverage was extensive. But what about when it was just her, Megamind, and Minion, alone in the Lair, or in whatever HQ he’d cobbled together for the implementation of his current, doomed-to-fail plan?

Were there recordings of her flirting with him while she was tied up? Had any of it ended up on Youtube? What did he do with all of it? What if the cops or Metro Man found his hideout and confiscated everything in his databanks?

Oh, there would be no shortage of things for her and Megamind to talk about on their first date.

She went to the break room for some coffee and tried to calm down. A couple of her coworkers were there, and she sat with them. One of them, Hannah, noticed she was upset. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, it's nothing,” Roxanne said, waving her hand. “I got an email that...well, it's private. I really can't...” She gave them a rueful smile.

Hannah nodded. “Ah. Well, if you ever want to talk about anything, honey, I'll be happy to lend an ear.”

They went back to their small talk. Gloomily, Roxanne realized another downside of dating Megamind. She wouldn’t be able to confide in any of her friends. Another secret she’d have to keep.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

“How dare she! Already trying to wriggle out of it.”

“Well, she kinda has a point, Sir.”

“Oh, sure! Take her side! My own henchfish, turned against me.”

“Sir, for evil’s sake, I haven’t turned against you! Now, I think there’s a simple solution here, if you would just...”

“Insufferable woman,” Megamind growled, sweeping his cape around as he paced. “You have no idea, Minion. Dealing with someone so pushy, and bossy, and overbearing.”

“I can only guess,” Minion muttered. “Uh, Sir, it sounds like she’s mostly upset about you recording the conversation. Just say you won’t do it anymore.”

Megamind shot him a scowl, but he stopped stalking around the monitors. “Simple as that, eh? And what about the kissing clause? What about that? She’s clearly in the wrong. It’s so obvious we were discussing the entirety of the dating period.”

Minion thought that it hadn’t been all that clear, even after reviewing the recording of Sir’s and Miss Ritchi’s business dinner, but he knew better than to point that out. “Look at it this way. If she _has_ to kiss you, how will you know when she _wants_ to kiss you?”

Megamind began pacing again, but in a slower, more thoughtful way.

“In fact,” Minion added, going for broke. “I’ll bet that by the end of the evening, she won’t be able to help it anyway. Because of you showing her such a good time and everything.”

Megamind stroked his chin, pacing in silence for a few more moments, then he came to a stop and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’ve decided, Minion. Whether or not a good-night kiss is administered will indicate my level of progress. A gauge, if you will, of my effectiveness at wooing her.”

He rocked back and forth on his heels. “Once I’ve dazzled her, she won’t be able to keep her lips to herself.” He hopped into the swivel chair and typed rapidly.

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

Her computer pinged. A message from Megamind. She steeled herself for snark, and clicked on it.

‘Very well. No more recordings. You have my solemn word as a supervillain. Recording my transactions with others is routine for me, it was not my intent to offend you. I withdraw the good-night kiss requirement as well, though I hope you will still consider it as an option, o siren of the airwaves.’

She felt the tension in her shoulders ease, though she snorted at the siren part. _Maybe I should have him go back to calling me Miss Ritchi. He’s starting to sound like a bad poet._

 _Well... I guess having one good-night kiss written into the contract wouldn’t kill me._ She typed in: ‘At the end of the first date, Person A will give Person B a good-night kiss. All other after-date kisses will be administered or withheld on a case by case basis. Take it or leave it.’

She noticed something else. Her suggestion about massages had been included, but for Person B, only massages for shoulders and feet would be allowed. No neck massages for Megamind? It would be interesting to find out why.

At the end of the revised contract, she noticed that her paragraph about the rights of either person to break up had been kept, but Megamind had made his own addition: ‘...after which the usual kidnapping routine will be instigated immediately.’

“Had to get in the last word,” she muttered. Normal kidnapping routine. Did he really think things would ever get back to normal after this? It was as if he was completely clueless about dating, and all the baggage that could accumulate. That might be another topic she could touch on during their slightly combative-looking first date.

She sent back her reply, saying she accepted the terms.

Then she thought of something else, and sent another email. ‘We need a better way to communicate. What’s your cell number?’

She used up some more of her time that she should have spent working surfing Youtube for ‘Roxanne Ritchi’, and ‘Damsel’, but only found news clips, videos of other cities’ Damsels, and brief shots of her in videos taken by random citizens during Megamind’s battles with Metro Man. Nothing that appeared to come from within the Lair, or any videos of her while she was unconscious. Well, she supposed that someone would have alerted her to the existence of such videos by now, if there were any out in Internet space.

She wondered if she had made too big a deal of it, after all. If she and Megamind hit it off, she would have to face public scrutiny sooner or later anyway, whether or not there was any video footage of her flirting with her captor. Who the hell cared what the public thought?

Somewhat to her surprise, Roxanne discovered that she really didn’t care. But she still didn’t want Megamind recording every damn thing. Before she went out for the night’s broadcast, she got one last email.

‘I will acquire a cell phone momentarily. Will you be available Friday night, 6:30 p.m.? I’ll bring the contract so we can sign it, and we can each have a copy. Dinner and a movie. We’ll have to sneak in, unless the sight of an entire theater being emptied and the SWAT team called in amuses you. I will leave the amount for two tickets on the manager’s desk. I hope this meets with your approval.’

Roxanne smiled as she imagined walking in the doors with Megamind, brainbots swarming around them, people rushing for the exits. There wouldn’t be a line at the popcorn counter, that was for sure. If the employees had fled, Megamind would probably hop over the counter and help himself. “Large popcorn, Roxanne? Junior Mints?” he’d say with a grin.

Then they’d breeze into the theater of their choice, have their pick of the best seats, and, if the projectionist had gone, Minion could turn the movie on.

Megamind would be battling cops within half an hour, though. It would put a real damper on the evening. Or the cops would be huddling behind their cars, waiting for Metro Man to show up, more likely.

She sent him one last message. ‘Can we take the hoverbike?”

\- - - - - - - - -

Megamind put on the dark blue sport coat over the cream colored shirt. It was one of the remaining mild nights of autumn, and he was bringing Roxanne to a rooftop where a dining table and a full meal were hidden under an invisibility dome. They would have a view of the sparkling city, but no one would be able to see them.

He got out his brand new black trench coat, which was almost as good as the cape, since it had that villainous flare. Also, if she was cold, then voila! He would graciously give her the coat to wear. He would bring the newspaper with the movie times, so she could pick the one she wanted.

Minion tromped into the bedroom. “Have you, um, thought about protection?”

Megamind patted the de-gun at his thigh. “Got it, Minion.”

Minion cleared his throat. “No, a different... sort of protection.” And produced a box of condoms.

Megamind eyed it. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” he said, but he took the box and read the fine print. “Was this the smallest size you could find?” he said, shooting Minion a dark look.

Minion turned a deep shade of emerald. “Well, I don’t know how big you ...er... get... anyway, I got a bunch of different...”

Megamind shoved it back at him. “I won’t need them. Besides,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not in the contract.”

“Exactly, Sir. Regular fooling around was not covered. What if you guys get carried away?” He lifted the edge of Megamind’s coat and tried to stuff some into the pocket. “Just take ‘em along.”

Megamind jerked his coat out of Minion’s grip. “No.”

“Just in case.”

“They won’t be necessary.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Minion, I’m not going to shtup her on the first date!”

“No need to get snippy, Sir. Gotta be prepared. I saw the way you were looking at her. Looked like you were gonna pounce.”

“I wasn't going to pounce,” Megamind snapped. “It’s not going to happen tonight.” He glanced sideways at him, then readjusted his collar. “It’s too soon to even suggest it. I don't want her to think I'm only after one thing. It’s like you think I don’t have any self-control whatsoever.”

“Well...the thing is....”

Megagmind put his hands on his hips. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think I’m a total pushover, and if she puts the moves on me I’ll leap into bed with her.”

“She is a lot more experienced, Sir. And you two are always sort of trying to see who has the upper hand. What if she...”

“Decides to exert her womanly power over me, like some scheming vixen?”

Minion’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t put it that way! You’re not going to tell her that, are you?”

He chuckled. “Easy, filet mignon. I won’t get you into trouble with your future Evil Queen. Where’s the cologne?” He slapped some on. “Don't worry about my self-control, Minion. I've had years of practice,” he said, with only the slightest trace of bitterness.

“Yeah, but it's different this time. You've made a connection. Look, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Sir, or whether it's right or wrong, 'cause this is between you and Miss Ritchi. But if things get serious, I just think you should be prepared.”

Megamind fussed with his sleeves. He was unable to perform sexually without an emotional connection to the woman in question. That was the hypothesis, anyway.

“I’ll be by later to get the dinner things off the roof,” Minion said. “Have a good time, Sir.” He put the box on the side table, but paused before he left the room. “Shtup. You just made that word up, didn’t you?”

“Oh yeah? Then how’d you know what I meant?” Megamind said with a triumphant grin.

“Hmph.” Minion left.

Megamind adjusted the cufflinks, drew the de-gun a couple of times to make sure that he could get to it easily, and began to stride out. He glanced at the condoms. Looking out the door to make sure Minion was out of sight, he grabbed several and shoved them into his pocket. Just in case.


	5. Dating Games

Megamind parked the hoverbike next to the balcony. He smiled as he saw that she was already stepping out the double doors. He hopped off the bike, and took the dozen red roses out of the hatch. “Good evening, Roxanne. You look ravishing.”

“That’s supposed to put me at ease?” she said, but she was smiling. She held out her hand. “The contract, please.”

He pulled out the pages from his inner pocket. “Very quick to get to the point, I see. Here they are, identical copies. We each keep one for reference.”

Roxanne walked back in, reading it.

He stopped on the threshold. “May I enter?” he said, rocking onto the balls of his feet.

“Huh?” she glanced up. “Oh. Yeah, sure. Come on in.”

Exagerrating his movements he stepped decisively over the threshold. “And so I fulfill our agreement. I have legally entered your residence.”

She didn’t look up. “Mm-hm.”

He pursed his lips. Not the height of wit, but he’d hoped for a brief smile. She was scrutinizing the contract as if she suspected he’d hidden a trap within it.

He’d prefer it if her attention was on him, but he supposed she would want to be cautious. She was dealing with the world’s greatest mastermind, after all. Who could blame her?

He looked her over, admiring the way her close-cut slacks hugged her hips, and the white lacy sweater, which was clearly decorative as it was so full of holes it wouldn’t keep anyone warm, complimented her purple shirt and the curves beneath it. His eyebrow rose in appreciation at her low cut leather boots. He didn’t remember seeing those before. Had she gotten new footwear for the occasion? That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Unless, like the steel-toed pumps, they concealed a nasty surprise.

He turned his mind away from such unvaliant thoughts. This wasn’t a kidnapping. Now was not the time for subterfuge and underhanded tricks.

She finished reading, and walked toward him. “Beautiful roses, Megamind.”

He held out the bouquet. “For a beautiful woman. In honor of our first...”

She bypassed the roses, slid her arms around his back, and planted her lips on his.

He fumbled with the bouquet, almost dropping it and trying to set it down, then holding it out to the side. He put his free arm around her shoulders. It took a second to get everything coordinated as he had to convince his stunned brain to send the correct signals to his limbs.

He stared at her closed eyes and long lashes as they lay on her cheeks. They were a little blurry, as she was so close. She was kissing him! Why? What trickery was this?

He inhaled her scent, which was mingled with a subtle flowery perfume. Hyacinth, some distant part of his mind informed him. It was definitely a full hug. Her hands were flat against his back, one hand between his shoulder blades, the other a little lower. His spine tingled. Twin mounds pressed against his chest. She must be able to feel his heart pounding. Her thigh, yes, her thigh, brushed against his. Her lips were soft and warm.

He began to slide his hand down her back, but her arms were underneath his and it was a little awkward. Before he could even reach her waist, she let go of him and his lips with a soft, wet sound and stepped back.

“There,” she said. “Got that out of the way.” She sashayed over to the sofa. That was a sashay if ever he’d seen one.

“Buh... Wuh...” He swallowed hard. “Got what out of the way?”

She glanced at him as if to say, Couldn’t you tell? “Tonight’s kiss,” she said. Sitting down, she put her signature on the first copy. “To really make it legal we should sign them in the presence of a notary. But I guess we’re just kind of winging it.”

His mouth fell open as he goggled at her. “That was it? It’s supposed to be at the _end_ of the evening, Miss Ritchi.”

Roxanne ran her eye down the page. “Says here it’s a required kiss on the first date. Doesn’t say when.”

He strode around the sofa and snatched the contract out of her hand. He scanned the page and found the impossible sentence: ‘Person A will give Person B a kiss at the first date.’

“At,” he said. “At? It’s supposed to be ‘after.’ That’s a typo!”

“Yeah, like here where it says ‘Persin’ instead of ‘Person’, that could be a type of cat? And here where it says ‘violets’, I guess that’s supposed to be ‘violations.’ Lot of guesswork here, Megamind. I’m reading that as ‘at.’ So it could be anytime during the date. I decided to get it out of the way. Now I don’t need to kiss you again unless I feel like it.” She took it out of his hand and signed it.

He grabbed it back. “But in the next sentence, which is worded correctly, I might add, it says all other after-date kisses will be administered or withheld on a case by case basis. It’s clearly implied that...” He stopped, panting. “Well, it’s supposed to be after! I wasn’t...” He clamped his mouth shut, hearing the whine in his voice. _I wasn’t ready_ , he wanted to say. _By the time I figured out what was going on it was almost too late for me to enjoy it!_

And damn it all, she was right. It wasn’t even a spelling error. Minion was a hit-or-miss speller even at the best of times, but this was merely a word substitution. He must have misread it.

Megamind ground his teeth. I should have proofread it. That dim-witted creation of science! He would have words for his henchfish tonight, many words. It was going to be a headache to even convince Minion that he’d messed up. _So she kissed you,_ he imagined the bewildered Minion saying. _Exactly how is that a problem, Sir?_

That clever vixen, to spot that one little word change and ambush him.

She held out the pen to him. “Your turn,” she said. Very smug, too, he thought.

What were his options here? Pout and stamp his foot? Or man up and sign them? She may have won this battle, but he would win the war.  
He accepted the pen with a small smile, to let her know that he could accept defeat gracefully, and took another pen from his pocket. Bending over the coffee table he took a pen in each hand, glanced at both papers to ensure alignment, and scrawled his magnificent signature over them.

When he straightened up, she was staring at him. She picked up the contracts, looking from one to the other. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You just signed your name twice, at the same...” She gave her head a little shake and looked at him, the furrow in her brows deepening. “You always do that?”

His eyes darted around, wondering to what she was objecting. “Sign papers? Not too many, really.” He craned his neck to peer at them. “Isn’t my signature legible? Oh, yes, I see. I should write today’s date down.”

He picked up the pens again and scribbled down the day’s date on both of them. “It is the 12th of October, correct?” He knew it was, but he asked so that they would be in agreement.

“Er....yeah,” Roxanne said in a vague sort of voice.

“All done. Signed and dated,” he said briskly, tucking his pen back in his pocket. “The six month period begins now, and will be completed May 12th.”

She stared at him a moment, then picked up one of the contracts. “Right. Yep. Looks good.” With a final glance at him, she stood and took the bouquet into the kitchen.

He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her through narrowed eyes as she filled a glass vase with water from the tap, and put the roses in it. Perhaps her behavior was an ongoing ploy, to keep him confused and uncertain throughout the evening. She brought the vase back into the living room and set it on the coffee table.

She pulled on a suede jacket. “Ready to go?” She slung the strap of her purse over her head and neck so it lay across her chest.

He lifted out his arm to her and she placed her hand on his sleeve. They locked gazes, and he smiled. She smiled sweetly back, as sweetly as a cat who’d eaten a canary.

“Right this way, Miss Ritchi.”

“Roxanne.”

“Oh, of course. Roxanne. Forgive me. Old habits die hard.”

He escorted her out to the hoverbike. He got on and held out his black-gloved hand. She grabbed hold, climbed onto the railing, and made a move to swing her leg over behind him but he stopped her.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he said, waving a finger at her. He patted the seat between his legs. “In front.”

Her eyes widened a little and she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said with an incredulous little chuckle.

“Oh, but you must,” he said, giving her a look of earnest concern. “This baby has quite a kick on lift-off. You might fall right off the back.”

“I’ve been on motorcycles before. I’d be holding on to you. I’ll squeeze tight.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do. It’s far more powerful than an ordinary motorcycle. Certainly more than you're used to handling.” He tilted his head. “It’s the rule for first-time riders.”

“Oh yeah?” Roxanne glanced down at her feet, then back up at him. “And how many first-time riders have you had?” she asked acidly.

She was still perched atop the railing, her hand gripped in his. He kept the hoverbike in park, but it bobbed up and down and to the side ever so slightly, and there was a sliver of empty space opening, closing, and opening up again between the running board and the balcony. He could see her eye was drawn to it.

He grinned. “By happy circumstance, Roxanne, you are the very _first_ first-time passenger on my hoverbike. I’m afraid I must insist. It’s for your own safety.”

Her eyes flickered down again. He could tell what she was thinking. She wanted to get off the damn railing, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to step back onto the safety of the balcony. Her nostrils flared as she glared at him.

“Sidesaddle,” he said. “Right here.” He patted the seat again.

The tendons in her neck tightened briefly, then she put her other hand on the handle and let him hoist her aboard.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

That son of a bitch. As if he’d make a male passenger ride in his lap! And he must have shot off into the air extra hard to make her fling her other arm around him.

She refused to look at him, but she was sure he was grinning. She seethed. Her awe at his ability to write with both hands simultaneously had evaporated. She’d been about to tell him, too, how impressed she was by a feat that was clearly no big deal to him. She wondered if he could write two completely different things at the same time.

No way was she going to feed his ego now. And fat chance of him getting another kiss out of her tonight!

He flew fast and high for a while, zooming between skyscrapers, then sent the bike into a sudden dive that almost made her shriek, but she bit it back. The hoverbike levelled out, and they were flying about four stories above the street. The multicolored lights of billboards, traffic signals, and vehicles flickered around them. She managed to loosen her death-grip. They were still going fast, but steadily, and almost against her will, she was beginning to enjoy it.

The wind whipped her hair back and she began to feel the exhilaration of speed. It was even better than a motorcycle. Up here there was no traffic to worry about, just the occasional wire and...

“Hey, a gargoyle!” she shouted, looking back over his shoulder. “What building was that?”

“Trymon Tower,” he shouted back. They had to shout to hear each other. “Gargoyles on the corners of the sixth and top floors. Want to see them up close?”

“Yeah,” she cried, a delighted smile on her face, then remembered she was supposed to be mad at him, and turned around again, looking ahead over the nose of the bike.

He made a wide turn, circling around some more skyscrapers, then they were back at Trymon Tower. He slowed down and went around the building so she could get a good look at each of the gargoyles on the sixth floor. They were highlighted by little floodlamps, and the shadows cast their snarling mouths into sharp relief.

She held out her hand to the last one and her fingertips brushed its nose as they floated past. “I love gargoyles,” she said. “I didn’t know this was in Metro City.”

“You can see a lot of things you’d miss at street level,” he said. “Gives you a whole new view of the city.”

He did something to the handles, and the hoverbike rose like an elevator to the roof. The eight gargoyles were massive, the size of horses, and each one unique. One was a devil with huge fangs and bull horns, another resembled a griffin, and a third was a giant bat. Roxanne decided she liked that one the best.

“Technically, they’re not really gargoyles,” she said. “They’re chimeras, or..."

“Grotesques,” said Megamind.

She looked at him in surprise. “Right. Because there aren’t any water spouts. But I like the term gargoyles better. And people know what you mean if you talk about them. Monster statues on buildings.”

He nodded. “Otherwise you have to waste time explaining you're not talking about creatures from Greek myth, or a synonym for ugliness. Should we take a little walk?”

“Up here? Sure.”

Megamind parked on the roof, and they inspected each one. The last grotesque looked oddly familiar.

“This one looks like it escaped from the _Alien_ movie,” she said. “It can’t be too old.”

“They did some renovation work about ten years ago,” said Megamind, “and replaced one that was falling apart. They like to add a modern touch to the gargoyles when they can. They based this one on another _Alien_ gargoyle...or grotesque, if you will...” he tipped a smile at her, “that’s located at Paisley Abbey in Scotland.”

“I didn’t know you knew so much about architecture. You trying to suck up?”

He gave her a quizzical look. “No. What do you mean?”

“I had a minor in art history in college. You’re telling me you didn’t know that?”

Megamind chuckled. “Actually, I didn’t. My dear Roxanne, I remember everything I read. I don’t spend all my time researching devices of mass destruction.”

It occurred to her that she had been talking about the _Alien_ film with an alien. “Does it bother you? Those films?”

His smile faded and his face became somber. “It’s an insult to my entire culture. It’s...painful.”

Roxanne stepped back from the statue. “Oh, Megamind, I didn’t mean to...”

He burst out laughing. “Hahaha! I’m kidding. They’re just movies.” He rolled his eyes.

“You prick!” She swatted at him. “You almost made me feel sorry for you.”

He caught the blow on his arm, still laughing. She tried to whack him again but he scrambled out of reach, dodging around the devil statue.  
She stopped chasing him. He was on the edge of the roof, holding onto one of the devil horns with one hand. Suddenly all she could think about was the drop. She put her hands on her hips. “Am I going to chase you around all night or are we going to go eat?”

His grin widened. The ends of his coat flapped in the updraft. “I’m not going to fall. Don’t worry.”

She scoffed. “I’m not worried.”

He let go, then grabbed the horn with the other hand.

Roxanne’s heart jolted and she had to stifle a gasp. He wasn’t even watching what he was doing. Roxanne clenched her teeth. “You better get down. That’s crazy.”

He turned his head. “Brainbots,” he called. Three brainbots floated over the edge of the roof. “My stealthy little cyborgs are never far from my side,” he said, as they came close. “They’d catch me.” As they drew level with him, he let go.

She couldn’t hold back the gasp this time, but two brainbots grabbed him immediately. They soared over to her with their master held in their pincers. He drifted along, one leg extended, the other knee bent as if he were caught in the middle of a dance move, and landed next to her. “Ta-daaaaa,” he said, sweeping his hands out. “A perfect landing.”

She realized her hands were clasped to her chest and she lowered them. She had to take a deep breath before answering. “Be a pretty lousy end to the date if you went splat.”

He tilted his head, smirking. “It almost sounds like you care about my well-being.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to get stranded up here,” she snapped. “You don’t have to risk death to impress me.”

“I was never in serious danger. My motor skills are unmatched, and I have complete confidence in my little critters. They’ve caught me under far more dire circumstances, when I’ve been hurtling through the air in freefall.”

“I still didn’t like it. You shouldn’t put yourself in danger on purpose. Promise me you won’t do that again. That was _not_ fun.”

His cocky smile faded and he became somber, for real. “All right,” he said with a nod. “No more death-defying feats.” He held up his elbow. “Shall we?” he said, waving his other hand toward the bike.

When they were in the air again he asked, “So, you used to have a motorcycle?”

“My uncle Jeff had one. He’d take me for rides sometimes, but I had to keep it a secret from my parents. They’d have killed me.”

She felt more than heard the low chuckle in his chest. “Ah, uncles. I have a few like that.”

She glanced at him again, but he seemed to be serious. “Big family?”

He gave a little shrug. “Not so big. Some.”

She turned to look ahead again, deciding to explore his cryptic comment at a time when conversation wasn’t so difficult. “My boyfriend in college had a motorcycle. A Mazda.”

Megamind snorted. “Truly a rebel. You should get one, Roxanne. You would look stunning in leather.”

“I should get a motorcycle just for the outfits?”

“Gives one a wonderful feeling of freedom.”

“Or maybe you could teach me to drive the hoverbike.”

He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. “You have a pilot’s license?”

“No.”

“That’s all right,” he said cheerfully. “Neither do I.”

She sat within the circle of his arms, and maybe it wasn’t so bad. She was mostly sitting on the hoverbike’s seat anyway. Her calf was warm from where it rested against his leg.

At least he’d seemed amused rather than put out at the mention of the ex-boyfriend this time. At their business dinner, her mention of previous boyfriends had put him in a brief funk, but he seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that she had a dating history.

Roxanne felt relieved about that. Not because she worried about her reputation, but if he was going to be judgmental, then this would not work. She wanted it to work, but she wasn’t going to put up with a holier-than-thou attitude.

She wouldn’t hold his own past against him, so he’d better not be judgmental about hers. It wasn’t like she had a wild past anyway. People dated; it was a fact of life.

She gave his excited, boyish grin a considering look. Most people dated. With Megamind, she was beginning to wonder.

\- - - - - - - - -

“Impressive, Megamind,” she said as they touched down on the empty rooftop. “How’d you ever get reservations?”

“Ohohoho. Appearances can be deceiving, my sweet,” he said, and clicked the remote that deactivated the invisibility field. He felt he’d scored another point when she gave a little gasp at the bright lamps and intimate table setting, brainbots waiting to attend. She had been impressed by the gargoyles and he felt as proud of that as if he’d sculpted them himself.

It was curious that she’d never seen them before. Didn’t Metro Man ever take her out flying? Then again, it was a huge city and maybe she spent enough time getting flown about in the hero’s beefy arms whenever he rescued her, and didn't care for recreational flights.

He was pleased that she seemed so alarmed over his stunt at Trymon Tower, though her concern was groundless. He had hoped his demonstration of the brainbots’s efficiency would have allayed her fears, but she had still seemed angry. She’d almost looked like she was about to scream. Idly he wondered if it would be possible to recreate those circumstances in a kidnapping situation, if the the kidnapping routine should ever be resumed.

He lifted the wine bottle from the ice bucket and poured out two glasses while she watched another group of brainbots carry away the hoverbike.

“They’re pretty strong,” she said. “That bike must be heavy.”

“Each one is capable of carrying up to one thousand pounds.”

“Where are they taking it?”

“To get it out of sight. If I put it within the field it’ll be rather crowded. Shall we?” he said, holding out his arm again.

She strode to the table on her own. “Thanks, I think I can find my way.”

He was quick to hold her chair for her. “Allow me.”

“I guess I can allow it.”

He got her seated, and pressed the remote again, hiding them from prying eyes, especially from overhead.

“You always eat like this?” she asked, cutting into her Chicken Kiev.

“Generally I eat whatever’s lying around. Minion shoves fruit and salad at me from time to time, along with regular meals.”

“Well, he's a very good cook. Let him know that I love it.” She took a sip of wine. “When you said I could ask you anything, did you mean it?”

“Fire away,” he said. Questions of a personal nature, no doubt.

“You got something against neck massages?”

“My neck is highly sensitive. Not quite an erogenous zone, but close.”

“Even incidental contact?”

He fingered the popped up collar. “It’s not that big a deal, but I try to avoid it. If it happens, it’s not like I throw a fit. It’s better if no one knows.”

She took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Must be pretty tough if someone puts you in a headlock.”

He winced. “Urgh. Exactly. I hate it.”

“I don’t suppose it does any good to ask the cops to lay off.”

“Ha! No, it does not. I’d just as soon not have my enemies find out about my sensitivities. I hope this doesn’t get spread around, Miss Ritchi.”

She held up her hands. “My lips are sealed. Complete confidentiality here. Speaking of which, what do you do with all your recorded conversations?”

“I store them,” he said, settling back in his chair. “In case Minion or I need them for future reference. Also, I need to know how my formidable presence translates to the screen.”

“Do you record all of our conversations? You know, when we’re alone while your ingenious plans crash and burn?”

“Mainly bits and pieces. Many of my brainbots will record snippets of conversation, as they’re programmed to take samples of events as they’re happening. I don’t specifically gather all recordings of you into a single file.”

She cocked her head. “You don’t use recordings of me for... private use?”

“No, Roxanne, I don’t use them for... what you’re implying,” he said with a chuckle. He looked beyond her and caught a glimpse of white in the distance.

Several blocks away, Metro Man was flying between buildings.

Megamind threw her a warning glance and put his finger to his lips. She turned and saw him, too. They watched for a while, but the hero wasn’t coming toward them. He seemed to be patrolling. Or looking for someone.

Megamind crept out of his chair, crouched by the control panel on the ground, and activated the white noise. A soft hum arose from the invisibility field. “There,” he said. “He shouldn’t be able to hear us, unless something tips him off that we’re nearby and he puts his attention directly on this building.”

“Why didn’t you have that turned on before?”

“In such a small area, the buzz will start to set our teeth on edge after a while. It does for me, anyway. I’ll get a headache before too long.”  
They peered out into the night again, searching for signs of Metro Man. He bit his lip, wondering if Roxanne would start to feel guilty, now that she’d seen her lunkheaded boyfriend flitting about. Maybe she’d decide to cut the date short.

He studied her profile. Roxanne didn’t seem very concerned. “Somebody must have seen us,” she murmured, giving him a brief conspiratorial smile.

He smiled back. “And thought a kidnapping was in progress.” He took a last sip of wine. He’d switch to water now, so he wouldn’t be sauced while driving. She wasn’t troubled that her boyfriend was probably flying around looking for her? Interesting. “Do you still want to go to a movie?”

She looked surprised that he’d even asked. “Well, yeah. Let me see those movie times.”

They waited until Megamind was fairly certain Metro Man had given up the search, though they flew low and darted down alleys and backways to get to the cinema.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

They saw a romantic comedy, but it was as disappointing as the last one she'd seen with Wayne. Fortunately Megamind proved just as willing to poke fun at the movie as she was, which didn't surprise her, given his love of banter.

It was much colder when they left the theater (via the roof) and Roxanne gave a squawk at the sharp breeze. He gallantly offered her his coat. She shoved her hands in the pockets, and felt the crinkle of a wrapper. The shape of them was familiar, but she still didn't quite believe what she was feeling, until she pulled out the streamer of condoms.

They dangled in the air between them. Megamind cleared his throat. “Must have forgotten they were in there. Haven’t worn that coat in years.”

“You said this coat was brand new.”

His eyes darted back and forth. “I mean. Well. The thing is. Well. Minion bought them.”

“And they fell in your pocket.”

His eyes bulged a little, giving him a hunted look, and then he sighed. “All right. You got me.” he lifted his arms and let them fall to his sides. “A man goes on date with the most beautiful woman in the universe, and thought there was an infintesimal chance he might get to sleep with her. What an amazing development. Stop the presses for this news flash! Roxanne Ritchi wins the Best Investigative Reporter of the Year award for groundbreaking journalism.”

She sucked in her lips, trying not to laugh.

He gave her a hurt look and cried, “And you’re not even really mad. You’re just raking me over the coals for your own ee-vil amusement!”

She held up the condoms again. “Eight, nine, ten. Wow, you must have thought you would get _really_ lucky.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t think anything would really happen,” he muttered. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “It was just in case.”

She put them back in the pocket. “At least it answers a couple more questions I had. These are something that you’re actually able to use.”

“You mean my anatomy? Yes, Roxanne, I possess what is considered normal genitalia for a human male.” He paused. “Except far more fantastic, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” she said, giggling.

“But now you've spoiled the mood,” he said with a heavy sigh, pretending to examine his fingernails. “So I'm afraid you'll have to wait to fiind out just how fantastic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Riiiight. Maybe next time.”

He gave her a sharp, hopeful look. “Really?”

“No.”

They watched the brainbots in the distance as they brought it over. She had the feeling that she would be seeing a lot of rooftops over the next six months. She thought she’d grow to like them, if she could see them with Megamind.

She threaded her hands around his right arm. He was startled at her touch, then he bent his elbow to give her hands somewhere to rest and put his own hand over hers.

He said, “You said a couple of things. What was the other thing you now know about me, temptress?”

“Pfft. You’re the one with the condoms. I think that makes you the tempter. What I also now know is that you’re capable of having children with an Earth woman, right? And...” She hesitated, then went for it. “Condoms help prevent disease. I mean, if there’s any risk...” Her voice trailed away. She was regretting even bringing it up. Too nosy. What kind of talk was this for a first date? Maybe she’d pushed it too far. But they’d known each other for what, five years now?

He was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to worry about that from me, Roxanne.”

“Wishful thinking?"

Slowly, he turned to look her in the eye. “Pure as the virgin snow, Miss Ritchi. If snow was blue. I suppose you find that pathetic.” A note of defensiveness crept into his voice.

She snorted. “After that ‘insult to my alien culture’ crap, I don’t think I’ll ever feel sorry for you again. You know what else this tells me?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “No. What?”

“You’re not like most bad boys. Getting macho points for scoring with girls.”

He grimaced. “I don’t want to seem overly virtuous. It’s not from lack of wanting. But I... just can’t. I think I need an emotional connection before...well, you know. I hope I don’t have to paint you a picture.”

“I think I get the idea, Megs. Just to let you know, I had myself tested in college. Pretty sure I’m free and clear, too.” Especially since she hadn’t been getting any for...Damn, it was just about five years since she’d gotten laid. No, longer than that, she’d broken up with Ryan over six years ago.

“Megs?” Megamind said, breaking her out of her celibate arithmetic.

“Yep.” She lifted her chin. “That’s what I’m going to call you. Got a problem with that?”

A funny smile made his mouth crooked. “Not...not at all, Roxanne.” He tilted his head. “You don’t really like being called Roxie, do you?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No, I really don’t.”

“Then it won't cross my lips.”

They watched the brainbots set down the hoverbike.

He glanced at her. “Do you want children?”

“Maybe. With the right man.”

A gust of wind made her hug the collar closed.

He stripped off his short gloves. “Here,” he said.

“No, you keep them.” He was driving. Without gloves his hands were going to freeze.

He swung onto the hoverbike and glanced at her appraisingly, but with a hint of bashfulness. “I guess you've gotten enough hoverbike experience. You want to ride in the front or the back?”

“The front,” she said. “I can shield you from the wind.”

\- - - - - - - -

They were quiet on the ride home, but it was a pleasant silence.

A warm glow filled him. He was relieved that she wasn’t offended by the condoms. And she’d pried out his deep, dark virginity secret, and didn’t seem to care. In fact, she seemed to like that about him.

His mind buzzed happily. He didn’t want the night to end, but he could tell that the evening was winding down to a natural conclusion. Was she happy? She seemed happy, though she must be feeling the cold, as she was tucking her hands in her sleeves. She could have given the coat back and ridden behind him. Was it an excuse for her to be in his arms? No, he was overthinking it.

She’d called him Megs! His heart fluttered again. He’d only heard her call him that once before, and that had all been a dream, many years ago. _I’d better not say anything about that. She might freak out. It sounds vaguely stalkerish. It was too weird. Say, Roxanne, you know I dreamed about you before we even met? Yikes._

But perhaps it wasn’t really the end of the evening at all. She might invite him in. He didn’t really think he’d end up in bed with her, but maybe they could watch another movie or something. His heart beat a little faster. Or they could make out. Or...

Unfortunately his survival instincts were nagging him with some hard truths. Metro Man was on the prowl. Perhaps after failing to uncover a kidnapping plot he’d retired to his mansion, but perhaps not. He remembered the mischievous look on her face when they'd spotted Metro Man flying around. She'd seemed to enjoy pulling the wool over the hero's eyes. Was her ardor for Metro Man fading? Had they quarreled? Maybe that was part of the reason she'd agreed to go out with the ee-vil villain. For rev-ahnge. The other part being because he was so incredibly handsome, of course.

He parked the hoverbike at the railing and walked her to the balcony doors. She got out her keys. “God, my hands are freezing,” she said. “Let’s go in.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Uh...”

“Just for a minute, to warm up.”

She got the door unlocked and they went in. She turned on the lamp next to the television.

He hovered by the double doors, rubbing his gloved hands together and soaking up the warmth. His face began to thaw out, and he would have given anything to be able to stay, but even a hero could take it pretty hard if he discovered his girlfriend was dating his arch nemesis.

“Actually, I should go,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the hoverbike. “Metro Mahn could do a flyby at any time.” He pressed his lips together. Damn it, that sounded cowardly. He should have taken her to the Lair, where they could hang out as long as they wanted without fear of discovery.

“Oh. Yeah, you’re right.” She took off the trenchcoat and walked over to him.

He held out his hand for the coat with a slight smile. “Though only for you would I risk being snapped in half like a toothpick.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to see that happen.”

He pulled the coat on, snapping the collar up. It still held some of the chill of the outdoors, but the inside was warm from her body heat. His insides went gooey at the thought. He buttoned up and tied the belt tight without looking at her.

She crossed her arms and sucked in her lip. He couldn’t help noticing she was still standing quite close.

He rubbed the back of his head. “So. Um. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah. It was fun.” She smiled.

He cleared his throat. He ought to just step in and kiss her, like she’d ambushed him earlier. But he’d already gotten back at her by making her ride in front. So they were even. Who the hell cared, why was he still keeping score? But what if he kissed her and she pushed him away?

He huffed out a breath and straightened up. “You know what, when you get right down to it, there’s nothing in our contract that says that I can’t kiss you.”

She nodded in a thoughtful way. “Hm. There is that. But what if I don’t want to?”

His heart raced. He stepped closer until they were almost touching. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to him that her breathing had quickened, and she didn’t step back. He murmured, “If you want me to stop, tell me to stop.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t say anything. Especially stop. He leaned closer to those soft lips, certain that at any moment she would say it, if for no other reason than to exercise her veto power.

She still didn’t say no, or stop, or get out. She tilted her head and closed her eyes as he pressed his mouth against hers, and kissed him back. She uncrossed her arms and wrapped them around his shoulders as his hands slid around her waist. He rested one hand in the small of her back, right above the swell of her buttocks, but he was very good, and did not cop a feel.

Why hadn’t he taken off his gloves? He’d be able to feel her shape much better. He also wished he hadn’t been in such a hurry to put the coat on. It would have been nice if there weren’t so many layers between them.

There might have been just a little tongue, but mostly it was a movement of lips, pressing and releasing, finding different ways of putting them together. Sometimes teeth were involved, running over each other, gently nibbling. Though their faces were cold, their mouths were warming up quickly. She opened her mouth a little, seized his bottom lip, and pulled gently on it. When she seemed to be done he took a turn and performed the same maneuver.

She let out an appreciative little 'mm' and held him a little tighter.

He kept one hand planted firmly in the small of her back while his other hand ran up and down her spine. Those twin mounds were pressed against him again, and they were belly to belly, their bodies swaying a little as they shifted their weight. Her elbows lay over his shoulders, dangerously close to his neck. Thank God for the collar or he wouldn’t be able to walk.

Eventually, they pulled apart to look at each other, though they kept the embrace.

“Well,” he said, and swallowed. “Well, I better go.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” But she didn’t let go of him.

His eyes travelled over her face. “Good night, then,” he said, and kissed her again.

The distant, rational part of his brain reminded him sternly that if Metro Man caught him kissing Roxanne then jail was going to be the least of his worries, but letting go of her was proving to be one of the most difficult tasks he’d ever encountered.

Roxanne pushed at his shoulders. “Good NIGHT, Megamind. It's supposed to be a good night kiss, not a make out session.”

He chuckled and released her.

“Call me next week?” she said.

He planted one last, quick kiss on her luscious lips. “To hold you 'til then,” he said with a smirk, and swept out the doors.

Roxanne, feeling giddy, leaned against the wall so she’d be out of sight. She felt silly, but she stayed put until she heard the hoverbike roar away. She couldn’t stand there at the glass like some lovesick puppy watching him go.

She touched her mouth, warm and tingly. Talk about electric lips. That was even better than the stolen kiss she’d foisted on him earlier.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

As she was brushing her teeth, there was a knock from the balcony. She rinsed and came out of the bathroom. Sure enough, it was Metro Man.  
She was glad she’d hidden the roses. Arranging her features into a puzzled frown, she let him in. “Hi, Wayne. What’s up?

“Hey, Roxie,” his said, taking in her flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers. “Everything okay?”

“Well, yeah,” She put her hand on her hip. “What’s going on?”

“I got word that Megamind got you. Reports came in that he’d carried you off on the hoverbike.” His eyes darted around the apartment. “You sure you’re okay?”

Roxanne huffed and crossed her arms. “Well, obviously, Wayne. And about all you’ll see with your x-ray vision is my nylons drying in the bathroom.”

Metro Man blushed a little, and scratched his head. “Uh, you haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary, or...”

“Nope. Was at the movies.” She smiled thinly. “Thanks for stopping by to check on me, but as you can see, I’m fine.”

“Okay, then. ‘Night.”

She locked the door behind him. _I hope he didn't see the roses in the cupboard._


	6. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poster on Roxanne's wall is La Belle Dame Sans Merci, by Sir Frank Dicksee. 
> 
> The Aerosmith song that's (sort of) quoted is "Livin' on the Edge." Hey, just because Megamind is a genius doesn't mean he can figure out what Steven Tyler is singing.

A week dragged by, but finally the next date night arrived. Megamind had set up a little get-away on top of a nightclub, hidden underneath an invisibility dome and warmed with space heaters.

He'd programmed a brainbot to mix any and every kind of alcoholic beverage, along with twenty non-alcoholic options. The music would be piped in from below. Minion was mopping their private dance floor and making sure all was ready. Roxanne had said she wasn't much of a dancer, but was willing to give it a try, as long as there was a truce on mocking, needling, or making jokes at her expense.

Megamind roared over the lights of the city, and sent the hoverbike into a wide, fast arc around a skyscraper. He grinned at his reflection flashing past in the expanse of windows.

Soon he would whisk her away and they would dance under the stars.

\- - - - - - - - -  
  
But whisking her away would have to wait.

She answered his knock at the balcony door, holding her phone to her ear. She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "A friend's having a hard time, I'll be just a few minutes."

She waved him into the living room. "Have a seat," she said. A muffled sob came from the phone, and a distressed female voice, full of tears, but so incoherent he couldn't understand what she was saying. "Oh, I know, Cheryl, you never can tell," Roxanne said. She flapped her hand at him again in a distracted way. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge."

Her stomach growled, sudden and loud. She grimaced, hurried up the stairs to the bedroom and shut the door.

Megamind looked at the closed door for a while, then moved over to the refrigerator as instructed.

Five minutes of sitting on the couch and drinking a flavored water, flipping channels, and looking up at Roxanne's door every two seconds, he realized the wait could be considerable. He tossed the remote down and wandered around the room.

There were her two certificates for Excellence in Journalism awards, in gold frames. Her university diploma was on one of the bookshelves, slightly dusty, he noticed when he picked it up. The carpet looked like it could use some attention, too. He generally didn't notice things like that, but the dust bunnies that drifted out from behind the shelves as he passed by had gotten his attention.

She was a busy person, and didn't have her own minion or brainbots to take care of domestic chores. Maybe he ought to loan her one of the cleaning 'bots.

There were photographs on the wall and a low bookshelf, of her mother, assorted children that were probably nieces and nephews, and, of course, a photo of her and Metro Jerk at some generic location. They were goofing off in the photo. Roxanne was sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes, while Wayne struck an exaggerated heroic pose in the background.

He stopped by an old poster. He'd seen it before on previous visits but hadn't looked at it closely. It was a copy of a painting, a lady on her horse leaning over a knight wearing an expression of rapture. It looked like it had been around a while. It was faded with age, and though Roxanne had framed it, ragged edges peeked out, and the rips had been repaired with scotch tape. He imagined Roxanne taking the poster with her as she went to college, and moved from place to place, until she got this luxury apartment.

With a slight sinking sensation he realized that Roxanne had a life. A nice, normal, ordinary life.

She had friends and colleagues at the station, and probably had old friends from shool. Maybe she was talking to one of them right now. Her parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, all formed a category he thought of as 'Roxanne's friends and relatives,' if he thought of them at all.

He wondered if she talked about him.

But she couldn't, could she? Not without opening herself up to criticism for cheating on Metrocity's golden boy with the evil villain.

Would she want him to meet her parents? That was the natural course of events, normally. When things got serious, you brought your significant other home to meet the folks. Her parents would take one look at him, their daughter's kidnapper and the ultimate alien freak, and call an intervention.

How could he reciprocate? By taking her to meet the warden? He felt a pang, like a sliver deep in his chest. Surely it wasn't... regret? Sadness?

For a moment he felt as if he stood on the brink of a chasm, made of anger and resentment and far too many bitter arguments, with the warden on the other side. If he had any regrets, then he regretted this, not being able to tell the warden that he had found a woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. Would the old man be happy for him?

He paced across the living room again, scowling. What was taking her so long? Evil gods, he was bored. If this was a kidnapping, he'd have her unconscious and tied onto the back of the hoverbike by now. But this wasn't a kidnapping, and if he tried that, she would not be amused. It'd be sayonara, so long, thanks for the one date, don't let the door hit you in the butt on the way out.

He wondered if Roxanne had orchestrated this lengthy wait as a test, but he dismissed the notion. She couldn't have faked that growl in her stomach. This Cheryl person must have interrupted her as she was getting ready, and she didn't even have time to eat.

His pacing was interrupted by Minion's call on the wrist communicator. "Hey, Sir, got a little problem over here."

"Oh, crap. What happened?"

"Metro Man," Minion whispered. There was the sound of a car door closing and Minion exhaled. "Whew. Should be okay. I went to get more ice, and when I came back, I saw him going into the club."

Megamind groaned. "Oh no. He was suited up?"

"No. In his civvies."

"So he's there unofficially."

"Yep. He hadn't shaved, wore a hat, stood in line like everybody else. I almost missed him."

"What's he doing, seeing how the other 99 percent live?"

"Dunno."

So Metro Mahn was incognito. It was pure bad luck that he had decided to go slumming in the same club. The thought of conducting the date right over the big oaf's head was tempting, but it was very risky. Metro Bum might cast an x-ray eye around the place and see them, or might hear his or Roxanne's voice.

"We've been delayed here, anyway, Minion. How about you do a little espionage on our hero? See who he meets, what he does."

"Do I get to go dancing?"

Megamind laughed. "Long as you keep him in sight, filet mignon. Hey, ask him to dance!"

They cackled with glee. "Oh, oh Sir, that's a great idea! I'm gonna do it. Take some photos, too. I got the perfect disguise."

Megamind ended the call and looked in the refrigerator. There were several take-out containers that looked like future dinners. Maybe he could reheat something for her.

He rubbed his chin, thinking, then called Minion back. "On second thought, scratch the mission."

"What? How often do we get a chance like this, Sir? Tell me you're kidding."

"What if he's cheating on her? I doubt that he'd do something like that, but what if he is?"

"Yeah! Catch him in the act."

"But what could I possibly do with the information?"

There was a short silence. "Is this a trick question?" said Minion.

"I can't tell Roxanne, she'll know I spied on her boyfriend. She might even think I set him up."

"There's this little thing called the post office, Sir, maybe you've heard of it?"

"She starts dating me, and suddenly there's a mysterious package in the mail with incriminating photos? Like she wouldn't see through that in about two nanoseconds. Uh-uh. No way. This entire scen-ah-rio is fraught with conundrums. Fraught!"

"Passing up a golden opportunity here, Sir."

"Well, tough toenails. I will play by the rules, and win Miss Ritchi's heart by my own merits."

"Ah, but does it actually say in the contract that you _can't_ spy on her boyfriend?"

"She'd never buy that line of bullshit. It is _implied_ , Minion, by the honesty stipulation."

"Would've been fun, too," Minion muttered. "Guess fun's not in the contract either."

"Oh, don't pout. You can still spy for a little while. Watch to see if he leaves. Maybe he won't stick around for very long. But do not, repeat, do NOT tell me if he meets someone."

There was a longer silence.

"Let me get this straight," Minion said slowly. "You want me to spy on Metro Man. But only to see when he leaves the building."

"Correct."

"And I can't tell you if he met anybody."

"Exactly. So in the extremely unlikely event that he _is_ cheating on Miss Ritchi, then I won't be tempted to tell her, thereby risking her wrath for the aforementioned reasons." He nodded firmly, though Minion couldn't see him.

"Sir, does Miss Ritchi have any ESP powers I don't know about? Like, the ability to cause temporary insanity, or mental breakdowns, or..."

"Just do it, Minion," he snapped.

Minion heaved a sigh that came from the depths of his soul. "Okay, okay. Call you later."

"Don't mention Metro Mahn. Roxanne might overhear."

Megamind shook his sleeve back over the wrist comm. He felt... good. Light-hearted. With some surprise he realized that it was because he knew he'd done the right thing. Imagine that! Instead of giving in to his basic, ee-vil instincts and skulking about trying to get some dirt on his most hated rival, he... _wasn't_ doing that. He was taking the high road.

He would win over Roxanne honestly, without resorting to sneaky, underhanded tricks. Besides going behind his enemy's back, that is. He smiled, pleased with himself. _I'm here with Roxanne, and he isn't. I win, at least for tonight._

He looked in the fridge again. Other than the take-out and some hamburger buns, it was mostly full of condiments, bottled water and soda, and half a case of imported beer. There wasn't very much actual food.

He closed the door thoughtfully.

He almost never got to use the kitchen. Minion had banned him from cooking, baking, or anything else that needed the oven, after that little lava cake incident. What was the big deal? The brainbots got the chocolate sauce out of the air vents all right, he really didn't see the need for Minion to flip out. But he supposed his faithful friend needed his own domain, so Megamind allowed Minion to run the kitchen to his liking.

What better way to show Roxanne he was a good provider and a modern man who knew his way around a kitchen?

After a brief search through the rest of the cupboards he realized that Roxanne was not exactly into cooking either. There were even more soup cans and boxed meals than he had at the Lair. There were two scratched up frying pans that he wanted to dump into the trash immediately, and a well-used aluminum saucepan. A crock pot and... ooo, a pressure cooker!... were gathering dust under the sink.

He called up the nearest brainbots, and gave them their instructions and money.

\- - - - - - - - - -

"Oh, I know, Cheryl, I know. Some men are just assholes," Roxanne said, lying flat on the bed with her other arm flung out.

"I just feel like I've invested so much time in this relationship, and what do I get out of it?" Cheryl sniffled damply on the other end of the line. "He seemed so perfect."

It sounded like Cheryl was about done crying, thank goodness. This wasn't the first time Cheryl had fallen in love with the 'perfect guy.'

Music throbbed through the floor from downstairs. Megamind had turned on the radio some time ago, to a local hard rock station. At least he was able to keep himself entertained. She felt bad about keeping him waiting, but if she didn't talk with Cheryl now she'd worry about her friend all night. Still, every time a new song came on it reminded Roxanne of how much time was passing.

She lifted her head and sniffed. There was a faint burning smell which happened whenever the oven was on, because she hardly ever cleaned it. Maybe he was heating it up for a pizza. Thank God, she was starving. She had meant to grab a bite to eat right after work, but then Cheryl had called.

"But nobody's really perfect, Cheryl." She sat up, stretching, and her stomach growled, though less loudly than it had downstairs, she noted with irritation. "I guess the thing to ask yourself is, am I happy with him?"

"And is my checking account safe?"

Roxanne smiled. A humorous, snide comment, that was a good sign.

After a few more sympathetic words, Roxanne clicked off the phone. _At least I know my money is safe from cash-strapped boyfriends, strangely enough._ That was interesting. She was dating a known thief, and felt completely confident about that thought. Megamind didn't steal little stuff, generally. And few things were littler than Roxanne's accounts. She'd only gotten her student loans paid off last year. That had been a big weight off her shoulders.

She went out to see if she could salvage the date. She hoped she wouldn't find him pacing and pouting. Well, if he was going to get all bent out of shape about her needing to console a friend, he could fuck off. And if he made a fuss about not telling him she would be late, as stated in the contract, she would remind him that if she was already on the phone with Cheryl, she would hardly be able to call him, now, would she?

She stopped short on the stairs.

A brainbot was putting something into the fridge. Four pots sat on the stove. Another brainbot stirred the smallest pot while a third one tossed a salad. Tomatoes, shredded carrots, and lettuce flew up and arced down into a giant salad bowl. She didn't remember owning a salad bowl.

Megamind was pouring something chocolatey into a pan and singing along to the Aerosmith song blaring out of the radio. "Livin' on the _edge!_ Something, something, something, so-o-omethi-i-ing. Livin' on the _edge!"_

Roxanne came the rest of the way down the stairs as he put the pan into the oven. He picked up a remote control, and turned the stereo down. "Voila," he said. "I thought you might be hungry. I hope you don't mind. I will completely clean everything." He put a hand on his hip and leaned the other on the counter, crossing one foot over the other, attempting nonchalance. The effect was slightly marred by his worried smile.

She gave the kitchen a meaningful look. "I take it we're staying in?"

"Yeah, last minute change. A monkey wrench thrown into the works, so to speak." He glanced down at the flour smears on his black shirt and wiped at them with the hand towel.

She looked at the pots on the stove. "I'm pretty sure I don't have any stainless steel cookware."

"Brought from the Lair. And getting it washed up and back in place before Minion finds out is an additional hazard," he said. He wrinkled his nose. "He's so touchy about the kitchen. For some reason. I have no idea why."

He looked into the pot the brainbot was stirring. "This is apple-butternut squash soup. Now I know what you're thinking, squash, YUCK, but it's surprisingly good."

The brainbot picked up a submersible blender and stuck it into the soup. It came on with a sharp whir. Hot bits of soup flew out and threatened to overflow. Megamind grabbed the lid and shielded himself from the splatters. "Hey, slower speed, slower!"

The high-pitched whirring slowed down and the soup sank back into the pot. The brainbot lowered its eyestalk in a sheepish way and said 'bowwg.' Roxanne noticed the brainbots wore little plastic gloves on their pincers.

Megamind wiped at the new stains. Roxanne had stepped back when the soup started flying, but a hot droplet had hit her bare forearm. She wiped it off with a tissue.

He glanced up. "Did you get burned? You need ice." He hurried to the freezer.

"It's not that bad. I've had worse."

"Oh." He stood uncertainly by the open freezer holding an ice cube tray.

A few years ago she had accidentally gotten a laser burn from Metro Man on her side during a rescue. A small burn, but it had hurt like hell. All that remained was a little scar on her ribs, and she totally blamed Metro Man's carelessness, but she could tell from the look on Megamind's face that he was thinking about it, too, and feeling guilty.

She walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "This is very sweet of you. I never had someone cook for me before."

He went still at her touch, and a lopsided smile tugged at his mouth.

She smiled back and opened the fridge to find something to drink. "When can we eat?"

He cleared his throat. "The pot roast should be done marinating in half an hour, and then it's about two and half hours in the oven, so..."

"Is that what this is?" she said. A huge kettle full of dark broth with a massive hunk of meat floating in it sat in the fridge. "Good God, Megs, this could feed a family of twelve. Did you say three hours?" Roxanne groaned and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "Can we eat any of this other stuff?"

"Er, the soup will be another hour, that one's sauce." The pressure valve on the pressure cooker began to click. He brightened. "The porcupine meatballs will be done soon."

Roxanne felt alarmed. "What kind of meatballs? Don't tell me you got actual porcupine meat."

"Oh no, no, it's hamburger. They're meatballs with rice in them. Making them look like porcupines. Sort of." He waggled his fingers in a vague way. "You never had them? Well, they are awesome."

"Do we really need two meat dishes?"

"I couldn't pass up the chance to use the pressure cooker. Last time the lid blew u-uhh... see, I was..." He fidgeted with his collar. "I'm certain if it doesn't get jostled it'll be fine. And the molten lava chocolate cake will be done in twenty-eight minutes."

There was a polite tapping at the balcony door. A brainbot hovered outside, holding grocery bags. Megamind hurried over to let it in. "Appetizers!" he said. He pulled out some potato chips. "Barbecue or sour cream and onion?"

"A brainbot that shops. That must get some attention."

"Oh, it doesn't actually shop. I send a list and money along and the store employees collect the items for the brainbot. They get to keep the change."

The pressure valve began to rock back and forth with a loud clattering noise, and steam hissed out of it. He hurried over to the stove and turned the heat down. "Be done in no time!"

She giggled. "Well, now I know you can bring home the bacon. I'd like some barbecue chips. And the salad?"

He pounced on the salad bowl. "Yes! The salad we can eat right away."

\- - - - - - - - - -

The meatballs were, as Megamind promised, delicious.

"I've been wondering. Do you have any other names you go by?" she asked.

"Officially, John Doe. When I was growing up they just called me Blue. My birth name is T'lee-hur-fahn Amlin. The family name comes first. So, Amlin."

Roxanne stopped chewing.

Megamind finished his soda with a slurp. "Time for a refill."

She swallowed and watched him rummage in the fridge, while several questions fought for dominance in her mind.

He looked over his shoulder at her, a root beer bottle in his hand. "I better not have this kind. It's got caffeine. Unless you don't mind a deconstruction of the Feynman-Kac formula scribbled on your wall." He put the bottle back. "You're learning all my weaknesses," he said with a grin. "I trust you will not abuse your power."

He went to check the roast, waving away the steam. "You know, I think your oven runs too cool. This is taking forever. You should check it with..." He looked around at the ceiling where the brainbots were drifting around. "Here, Hopper. Take the oven's temperature."

A brainbot flew down low and extended one of its arms into the oven. Two seconds later it said, "Bowg-bowg!"

Megamind was looking at a small screen of light which projected out of his watch. The number 325 appeared on it. "I knew it. A full twenty-five degrees cooler than it says on the oven display." Shaking his head he turned up the heat.

"So, Ahm-lin?" she said as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"No, the short 'a' sound, as in apple, or am. I am Amlin." He chuckled. "I prefer Megamind, really. Or... or Megs." His look became shy, and he ducked his head, peering into the oven. He got the pot holders and took out the cake. "At least this is done."

"Minion's older, right? He told you?"

He put the cake on the stove and sat down again. "My parents told me."

"You... remember that?" she said. "Wow. Does Minion have a... or is that too...personal...?"

"His is Niri. T'lee-hur-fahn Niri."

She practiced saying it a couple of times. "How much do you remember? If you don't mind me asking. I completely understand if you..."

He looked surprised. "Oh, not at all, Miss Ritchi. Where would you like me to start? At the very beginning, I suppose." He gave her a small quirk of his eyebrow.

"Whenever you're ready."

He took a deep breath and settled back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I had a fairly standard childhood..."

\- - - - - - - -

After a few moments, Roxanne set her fork down.

He had called her Miss Ritchi, right before he started. With time, she learned to recognize that particular inflection in his voice, his 'this is the reflective ee-vil genius explaining how a traumatic event was really all part of a grand design leading to his destiny' inflection. Sometimes he'd call her Miss Ritchi with fondness so it became an endearment. Other times... other times it was like this, part of a carefully constructed shield.

And he'd gone to school for a brief time with Wayne. That was news to her. Wayne had never mentioned it. It didn't sound as if the teacher had much control over the classroom. Or if she had, then Wayne had been her little enforcer.

Roxanne had always hated dodgeball anyway, but Megamind's retelling of it did not resemble that loathsome game as she'd known it. It was supposed to be two teams facing off, not a whole team against one person.

 _If I were in his shoes, I might want to set off a paint bomb too,_ she thought, feeling her jaw tighten.

Megamind was winding up his story. "From that point on, I knew we were destined to be rivals. And I loved it. He would win some. I would almost win others. He took the name Metro Man, Defender of Metrocity. I adopted something a little more humble." His voice rose to a triumphant declaration. "Megamind! Criminal genius and master of all villainy!"

He sat forward in his chair, eyes glittering as he looked off into the distance, as if he could see a glorious future. Then he glanced at her, and it was as if he'd clicked the switch off Evil Supervillain, and became just himself again. He asked, "What was your childhood like?"

"Oh, geez, nothing as...exciting as yours."

He leaned his elbows on the table. "But it's your turn. I want to hear," he said. She searched his face, looking for sarcasm, but damn, he really did look as if he was dying to hear all about her boring old normal childhood.

So she went into her usual spiel, about growing up in Metro City, the schools she went to, college in Ann Arbor, some of the stuff she used to do with her friends and siblings, family trips.

She paused, thinking about her parents' divorce when she was in her second year of college. She almost said she came from a broken home too, except she remembered what he'd said about his own home. There was simply no comparison.

The destruction of his entire planet. Her back felt cold and exposed, as if the black hole were hanging behind her, and she would see it if she turned around. His parents died along with his entire planet. He was the last of his kind and he lived with that knowledge every day. Every day. He remembered it.

His elaborate origin story was him coping. His villainous persona was also part of that coping mechanism, as well as an answer to the world that had rejected him.

"Did you go to the prom?" he asked.

His voice drew out of her thoughts. "I went with two of my friends once, just for the hell of it. And I don't regret it, either, before you ask."

Some people acted like it was such a tragedy, that she hadn't gone to prom with a 'real' date, but she didn't. She'd just hated all the stupid expectations, and had resisted being shoved into the outdated roles that boys and girls were expected to play. Now that she was all grown up and comfortable with herself, she'd enjoyed the formal dances she'd attended with Wayne.

A wistful expression came into Megamind's eye. "I would've liked to go to a fancy dance."

Roxanne thought of the cheesy paper decorations in the gym. "High school proms aren't all that fancy. You didn't miss much, really."

There was a call from Minion. "Bad news, Sir. I don't think it's going to work out."

"What's happening?" Roxanne asked.

Megamind grimaced. "Date site's been compromised. We could go do something else. The brainbots will keep an eye on the roast."

"Eh." She waved a hand. "I guess we can stay in."

"A roast?" Minion said, voice full of suspicion. "Who's cooking?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Megamind said. "And everything is turning out fabulously, too, I might add."

Minion groaned. "Miss Ritchi, I hope your kitchen survives. Last time, he almost took the top off of..."

"Her kitchen's fine, Minion," Megamind snapped. "Good night." He clicked off the wrist comm and stood up, holding out his hand. "Want to dance? That is the theme of tonight's date, after all."

"Don't laugh," she warned him, going into the living room. The rock station had been playing on the radio all this time. "This station, or..."

"This one's good." He began to move, a sinuous glide that moved his whole lean frame.

Roxanne stared at him. Shit. It was like she had a switch of her own, connected to her libido.

She hoped he didn't notice she was practically drooling. She'd seen him prance around before, when his nefarious plots appeared to be coming together, and this didn't look too different from his victory dancing, but... was that a little extra glide there? An extra hip thrust there, for her benefit?

He nodded at her. "Show me what you got." He spun in place on his heels.

Roxanne sighed. There was no escape now. She started with her typical, stepping back and forth moves. Okay, this was keeping her libido in check. Embarrassment of her dunce-like moves.

He scrunched up his brows into a serious expression, as if he were making a critical diagnosis. "Hmm. I think what we have here is a serious case of 'white girl syndrome.'"

"Thanks a lot. So much for the truce," she said, scowling and pressing her lips together. She stopped and crossed her arms.

He held up his hands in apology. "That was the only one. No more smart remarks, I promise." He held out his hands and beckoned.

Slowly she reached out and held his hands. "Just try to... to feel the music," he said. "Let's do something simple." He kept her at arms' length. "A little swaying back and forth. A-a-and now add the feet." He made a slow shimmy around the room while Roxanne followed, feeling more like she was marching rather than dancing.

True to his word, he didn't laugh or make any more jokes, and shrugged off her apologies for occasional stomps on his feet.

"Got some clubs you go to? On your turf, I suppose."

His lips twitched in amusement. "Talking like a crime boss, Miss Ritchi. You'll turn my head."

"Well?" she said after a moment. "You never answered my question."

"Nobody notices."

"How is that possible?"

"I'm a master of disguise."

"You always stand out in a crowd, Megamind."

"Very true. Unless I don't want to."

"But how?"

His smile widened. "Trade secret. Ah, ah, ah, Roxanne," he said, wagging his finger when she opened her mouth again. "Too close to business. Top secret information."

"So your disguises help you in your supervillain job."

He merely smiled again. Of course he used disguises in his so-called work. Dammit, she wanted to know! How did he hide his large head?

After two more songs in which she felt she might be loosening up slightly, he claimed there was much improvement. They free-styled through another two songs. She could tell he was holding back, perhaps to make her less self conscious, or maybe he didn't want to jump around on her furniture. She suggested a break, as she was getting a little winded.

She got two beers and they settled on the couch. "So where is home for you? The Lair, I suppose."

"Evil Lair is...Evil Lair. There's no place quite like it, but I've always thought of home as the Metrocity Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Raised by the inmates, a couple of guards. Those are my uncles. And the warden. The warden and his wife adopted me and Minion." He cocked his head. "Or was it just the warden? The legalities are kind of hazy. See, his wife has had a lot of mental health issues that..."

Roxanne interrupted. "I thought growing up in prison was some crap you made up to tell reporters." It had been part of the origin story he'd recited, too, but she'd hoped to get some other kind of answer, namely, the real answer.

"Nope. All true."

"That is..." She shook her head. "Outrageous. Just... mind-blowing."

He shrugged. "It wasn't so bad."

"Keeping two little babies in an adult prison? What the hell? He should have been charged."

Megamind's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? Charged with what?"

"Abuse. Child endangerment. Neglect, at the very least."

"I said it wasn't that bad."

"You see the problem, don't you? Unbelievable."

"He had his reasons."

"I find that hard to believe. What possible justification could he have for keeping two children locked up?"

"I'm telling you it wasn't that bad. I was perfectly safe."

"With a bunch of murderers and rapists?"

Megamind scowled back at her. "My uncles looked after me, and the warden! He saw to it I didn't end up chained to the wall in some secret headquarters somewhere developing endless codes and hacking into enemy computers, or getting harvested for my genetic material. You don't know what he went through to..."

He stopped, breathing hard, and then he fell back, putting a hand to his mouth. "I don't know what... Wow. That's uh... I'm not..." He shook his head. "I don't know what..." He fell silent, his gaze falling to his hands in his lap.

They were silent for several moments. When he looked up there was something fierce in his eyes. "If it wasn't for him, I don't know if Minion or I would be here." He sighed. "Look, what's done is done. I don't expect pity, Roxanne."

"Well, good, because you're still not getting any."

He stared at her for a second, and then a rueful smile passed over his face. The mood lightened.

"I didn't mean to shout. I..." He shook his head. "Ever meet him?"

"No. Talked to him a few times on the phone, trying to get an interview with you. He refused. Said you didn't need any more publicity."

He scoffed. "That sounds about right."

They looked at their drinks and drank them, lost in their own thoughts for a little while.

Roxanne said, "So, the warden protected you." She supposed if Megamind didn't harbor any grudges then she ought to delay her judgment.

He nodded. "A lot of government types were very interested in us. A little too interested." He rubbed a hand over his head. "Huh. Never thought I'd be defending ol' warden."

"He could have gotten help."

"He did. The Scott family funded my imprisonment."

Roxanne's jaw dropped. "What?! The Scotts? As in, Wayne's parents? But why? Why in the hell...?"

Megamind leaned his elbows on his knees, raising his hands to tick off points on his fingers. "Lord Scott had the idea that, 1) I was too dangerous to let out, and, 2) once I got a little older I could be useful to him. Sort of as a life-long employee."

"You mean a slave."

"Ah, but a very well-treated slave." His smile became grim. "A poor little orphan boy who, once he'd shown that he was a good, obedient little orphan boy, would one day be allowed to go to a facility with a more pleasant atmosphere, a comfortable cell, oh excuse me, I mean a _room_ , certainly not a _cell_ , how crass. With lots of little niceties previously denied him, and so grateful to his benefactor he'd do whatever task put before him."

Roxanne looked off into the distance. "Fuck."

He nodded. "Yep. Sadly, I was neither good nor obedient."

"Does Metro Man know about any of this?"

"As much as I hate to give him the benefit of the doubt, I don't think he was aware of what Lord Scott was doing. He really had nothing to do with his father's plan, anyway, he was just a child." He took a swig of beer and set the bottle down. "Ready for another dance?"

Roxanne took another drink too. "Yeah, I guess I'm ready. Damn, Megs there is a LOT I never knew."

His smile was somewhere between ee-vil and inordinately pleased. "Fascinating, aren't I?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

She had to laugh. "Don't get too smug. Hey, how about ballroom dancing?"

He hesitated.

"I was willing to try out your type of dancing," she reminded him.

"As long as the truce is still on." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Because club dancing is... is really more my... my thing. Sort of used to winging it on my own. But!" He raised a finger. "I have watched a great many musicals, and I'm sure to pick it up as I go along."

She crouched down by her CD rack and pulled out the soundtrack to _The King and I_. "How about this one?"

He gasped. "That's my favorite one!"

"You're putting me on."

He chuckled. "Honestly, Miss Ritchi, it's as if you expect me to trick you."

"That's what conditioning does to a person."

He drew himself up and placed a hand over his heart. "Upon my villainous honor and in accordance with our contract, I solemnly swear I am a _conno-sewer_ of old-timey musical numbers. What's not to love? The songs!"

"And the costumes," she said. "The dance numbers."

He ran a hand over the blue dome of his head. "Yul Brynner." He snapped up straight, putting his fists on his hips. In a booming voice he said, "Now, shall Mr. Lincoln be winning this war he is fighting at present?" His voice changed, became higher, more fluting, with a passable British accent. "No one knows, really." He switched back and forth, reciting the dialogue between the king and Miss Anna. "Well, does he have enough guns and elephants for transporting things? I don't think they have elephants in America, your majesty. No elephants? No wonder he is not winning the war!"

Roxanne doubled over with laughter. "Oh God, that was perfect!" She wiped her eye. "Okay, you have to dance with me now. How about I lead for a while, and then we'll switch. You put your hand on my shoulder here, your other hand here."

"Ah, I see. An excuse to get me into your arms."

"Just pay attention."

There were a few missteps, but he did pick it up fairly quickly. Roxanne dipped him, as a little payback for his white girl comment. His eyes grew round with alarm and he clutched at her shoulder.

"Too far back?" she said, straightening him up again.

He took a moment to answer. "It's just... I never realized how much... a woman really needs to trust her dance partner, doesn't she?"

Roxanne was impressed. She hadn't expected him to notice something like that. "Yes, she does."

They glided around the room again, Megamind singing under his breath to "Getting to Know You." A thin line was between his brows as he concentrated on the steps.

God, he had such a great voice. She didn't normally swoon for singers, but damn. Megamind's voice, whether talking or singing, was as expressive as his face. Pitched low when he was flirting, the frustrated growl when his patience was hanging by a thread, the way his voice rang out so cheerfully when he declared a new ee-vil plan. It never ceased to intrigue her.

He'd chosen his career, but maybe he'd become a villain because his only other option was to become small and quiet. Instead, he'd made himself big and loud. Or, possibly, ee-vil really was more fun, and cooler, as he'd gleefully stated on occasion.

She also liked this other side to him, the one that cooked a huge feast for her and took her out to movies on the hoverbike and let her teach him ballroom dancing.

Roxanne's heart gave a little squeeze. Uh oh. This was dangerous ground. She wasn't sure if she should let Megamind know his plan might be succeeding. She'd been so sure she could handle him. She hadn't realized how difficult it would be to handle herself.

His shirt was silky smooth under her hand, and the muscles of his waist shifted as he matched her steps. The air seemed to have gotten warmer between them. The top button of his shirt was undone, and her eyes kept getting drawn to the hollow of his throat and the hint of collarbone.

His hand was firm on her shoulder and he held her other hand gently. He stared off into the distance, as if he was afraid to meet her gaze. He'd stopped singing.

Roxanne struggled to find something else to talk about. "Want to try leading?"

"Okay," he murmured. Now he looked into her eyes. He placed one hand in the small of her back to draw her close, cupped the side of her jaw, and kissed her.


	7. All's Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some explicit talk, but probably not any more extreme than stuff from other chapters.
> 
> Characters at the end are referring to events from another story of mine, "Night Club of Doom."

  
They slow-danced their way to the end of the CD, even when the music sped up again, kissing and nuzzling. Megamind occasionally put her through some faster steps, goofing around until they were both giggling. By the end they were nuzzling and shuffling around the room again, bodies swaying to the final song.

Roxanne was having serious thoughts about inviting him to spend the night. The beer had made her nice and relaxed, and bold. She rubbed her cheek against his, brushing her lips over his high cheekbone. There was a faint scar by the corner of his right eye, barely noticeable. A memento from prison? It made him seem more wordly, more dangerous. She wasn't attracted to bad boys normally, but in this case she had made a very definite exception.

Megamind swaying in her arms made it easy to imagine how his slim body would move in bed. She would enjoy showing him how it was done. Maybe not tonight, of course, she hastily told herself. Oh no, it was too soon. At least... _probably_ not tonight.

But when the time came, she would enjoy being his first. A little awkward, maybe, as first times often were, but enjoyable all the same. Her previous lovers hadn't been virgins, but this time she would be the one leading the way.

Roxanne liked the thought of that very much.

He hadn't tried to feel her up even once, though there'd been plenty of opportunity. Hadn't ground against her, either. He was being very good about not copping a feel, though her back was getting a fantastic workout with his hands trailing up and down, running over her spine, feeling the shape of her shoulder blades, sliding over her ribs. Sometimes his hands would return to her face, cupping the sides of her jaw, his fingertips brushing over her ears and neck, which made her shiver. Maybe her neck was an erogenous zone, too, only she hadn't realized it before. His hand moved up the back of her head, running her hair through his fingers.

The music faded away and she draped her arms over his shoulders, smiling into his heavy-lidded eyes. “You're pretty good at this,” she said teasingly. “Sure you never kissed anybody before?"

“Mm. None as good as you,” he murmured, and tilted his head toward her again.

Roxanne stiffened, feeling an unpleasant lurch in her stomach. “Whoa. Hold it,” she said, putting a hand on his chest. “Who?”

His eyes lost their sultry look. “Well...it... does it matter?”

Roxanne stepped back, folding her arms. _Oh my God, I'm such a sucker_. “You said you were a virgin.”

He let his arms drift to his sides. Bewilderment grew in his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Kissing isn't...I didn't think that...” He huffed out a breath and shook his head in a short, jerky motion. “It was just kissing. That's not...not anything, is it? I didn't sleep with any of them.”

“But you hooked up with them. If you didn't have intercourse, what about other things?” she said, her voice harsh. She crossed her arms. “Oral sex is still sex, even if some guys think otherwise. And handjobs.”

His mouth fell open. “N-no! No, nothing like that,” he stammered. “I know what sex is, I'm not trying to...to weasel out of a strict definition of... of... I haven't had any sexual contact with anyone. Oral or.... or anything.” His black brows drew together and he crossed his arms, too, looking flustered. “What, you want details?”

She ran her hand through her hair, struggling with the feeling of having missed the last step on the staircase. On their first date he'd told her he couldn't perform sexually with someone unless there was an emotional connection.

And how would he know that unless he'd... he'd tried? With others?

But she'd forgotten, and made the assumption that she was the first in everything, and built up a little fantasy in her mind about showing him the ropes. “Okay. I understand. I thought...” She grimaced, feeling her face get hot. “I guess I assumed you didn't have any experience whatsoever.”

She sighed and took the plunge. He deserved a better explanation. “My boyfriend, Evan. We went to this party, and later I caught him getting a blowjob from this girl. He said it didn't mean anything, wasn't even 'really' sex.” She made air quotes, feeling her lip curl into a sneer. “It was years ago. I just... well, I jumped to a really, really dumb conclusion."

An awkward silence fell, and Roxanne didn't know how to proceed. The pleasant, steamy mood had been squelched.

Megamind still wore a worried little frown. He cleared his throat. “Um. Look. Um. The last one was three years ago. It was just.... just making out. No sex. Of any kind.”

Roxanne waved her hand. “No, it's all right. You don't have to tell me.” She didn't want to know that badly about other women. “You don't necessarily want to hear about who I've kissed, do you?”

“Hell no,” he exclaimed. They looked at each other and chuckled sheepishly.

Roxanne dragged a hand through her hair again. “I overreacted. I'm sorry.”

A sly grin spread over his face, like syrup on an evil griddle.

“What?” she snapped. “What's that for?”

“Oh, nothing. I just realized you're jealous.”

Roxanne could feel her blush getting worse but was unable to stop it. “Ha, ha. That's a laugh.”

“You are. You're totally jealous.” Spinning on his heel he glided across the room. “Somebody likes meeee,” he sang. “And now you're mad. Because your lips were not the first to touch mine.” He sighed theatrically and clasped his hands together, holding them to his cheek.

“No, I was mad because I thought you might be lying to me,” she said, bristling. She strode toward the kitchen. “And now I'm mad because... Well, just because.” There had to be something to do, some mess that the brainbots hadn't cleaned up.

Megamind strolled after her, oozing with smugness. She could feel the smug in the air. “Don't worry, Roxanne, they didn't even know it was me, thanks to the disguise gen...” He clapped a hand over his mouth.

Roxanne stopped her fruitless search for something to keep her busy. “Disguise what?”

Megamind still had a hand over his mouth, but what she could see of his face no longer looked smug. His eyes were huge with dismay.

Roxanne took a thoughtful step toward him. “Gen.... what? Generation?”

“Generation, yeah,” Megamind said, dropping his hand and smiling madly. “A... series of increasingly complex disguises, each series a generation, right on the money. You guessed it. Rubber masks, makeup...”

“Or generator,” Roxanne said, narrowing her eyes. “That'd make more sense. You love your gadgets. A generator that generates...an image? From a remote location? That would work.”

Megamind fidgeted, one hand straying to his wrist before jerking away again. “That's quite the imagination you have there. Hey, how about for our next get-together we invite Minion along?” He began to back away. “Um, is there any lava cake left?”

Roxanne stalked closer. “Could be risky, projecting an image from a remote location, if the signal got interrupted. It'd be better if the device was on you!” She lunged, grabbing at his wrist.

He leapt over the back of the couch. “That's crazy! You're crazy!”

“That's it, isn't it?” she shouted. She scrambled over the couch, never mind the skirt. Megamind was too busy dodging around the furniture to ogle.

“No, it's not!” he shouted.

After a brief chase she cornered him behind one of the easy chairs. Breathing hard, she tossed her hair out of her eyes. “Oh come on, Megs, let me see. I'll bet it's amazing.” She tilted her head, batting her eyes in a shameless display of flirtation. “Puh-leeeeze?”

His chagrined expression slowly sank into grudging defeat. “Okay. Only because you're so cute.”

“You mean smart,” she said, grinning.

“Minion's going to have kittens,” he muttered. He pushed back his sleeve and turned the watch face. A flash of light, a warping of his form, and a complete stranger stood before her, an ordinary caucasian man with plain brown hair, wearing a janitor's uniform. He still had his own brilliant green eyes, however.

She ran her hands over his face, felt his jacket, and touched his hair. “That really is amazing,” she said. “It feels so real.”

He tried to be sullen, but he was clearly pleased that he had impressed her and he couldn't hold the expression.

She had to laugh. “You look so weird with hair. And the wrong color. How come you're taller? And your head just seems so small.”

He looked away. When his eyes met hers again he was shy, and wariness was in his borrowed features. “Don't I look better normal?”

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “No. I mean, it's a perfect disguise, I would never have guessed, but I like the way you really look.”

“Even my giant head? All the...” He waved his hands up and down to indicate the entirety of his form. “Blueness? And I'm too skinny, really, I...”

She grabbed his hand and held it firmly. “I especially like your giant head, Megs. And your beautiful blue skin.”

His pale neck began to redden, and the blush quickly spread over his cheeks.

“Megs, don't you like the way you look? What happened to the incredibly handsome genius?”

He shifted his weight. “Oh, you know. Maybe I was trying to...” He shook himself and rallied. “Well, it's about time you noticed. How handsome I am.”

Roxanne's heart squeezed painfully, but she kept her tone light. Light, but serious. “Well, you are beautiful.”

He gulped and looked at the floor. “Oh.”

She rubbed her thumb over his hand. “It's getting late. You better get going.”

He cut the roast in half and dehydrated it to take to the Lair, because there was no way she'd be able to finish such a huge chunk of meat all by herself. If he was disappointed she hadn't asked him to spend the night he didn't show it. He still looked dazed by her declaration that she found him beautiful.

Compared to the making out they'd engaged in not too long ago the goodnight kiss was almost chaste, though he did run his fingers through her hair again, which sent little shivers through her and threatened to ruin her decision to send him on his way. It was the right thing to do, she was sure of it, but it didn't make it any easier.

After he was gone, the apartment was too quiet. White noise hummed from the speakers. She wandered over to the couch to straighten the cushions, and turned off the stereo. Picking up one of the half empty beer bottles, she took a swig, sat down, and turned on the TV.

Embarrassment at her baseless accusation still reddened her cheeks. _Gosh, Roxanne, hypocritical much?_ It put a real damper on the mood. Oh, she could have asked him to stay, and given another hour or two the awkwardness would have faded and they'd have most likely gotten back in the mood again. He would've been quite happy to forgive her completely if she went to bed with him. Ha! No doubt! But she didn't want their first time to be part of... of an apology. That would give him the upper hand.

She rolled her eyes and went to get another beer. She might as well keep the buzz going, she wasn't going to get any other sort of pleasure tonight. Why did everything have to be a competition? Was she so used to being at war with him that she couldn't stop playing these games of one-upmanship?

There was something else she was worried about, something that had been lurking in her subconscious. She'd had the thought before, but it hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time. But now...now it seemed like a very big deal.

What if Megamind was pursuing her because she was Metro Man's girlfriend? (Or thought she was anyway, just like everyone else.) What if he didn't really want her as her, but only because of what she represented? What if he found out?

Dread roiled in her stomach. She didn't want it to end. She wanted him to keep coming back. She wanted him. And not for just one night.

“Oh no,” she groaned, flopping onto the couch. She could feel it happening. She'd fallen in love before, and she could feel the glow of it within, sort of an opening, a space blooming. She was looking forward to their next date, she was thinking about him at odd moments, she'd even gone so far as to prepare a few excuses in case Wayne asked her to go to one of the charity events and it conflicted with a date with Megamind. In short, she was making room for him in her life.

She should tell him the truth about her and Metro Man. It wasn't right to keep him in the dark. But really, was it like he cared? Megamind wasn't doing anything wrong. He just thought he was. But maybe that was part of the appeal?

Hell, it probably was, he might be getting a kick out of sticking it to his rival.

“Shit,” she growled, flung down the pillow and went upstairs to get ready for bed. _I'll tell Megamind soon. I will. Just....just not yet. But soon._

While she got into her pajamas she began to wonder if he'd made it home all right. He'd been drinking, she should've had him stay a while longer. She got out her cell.

\- - - - - - -

Back at the Lair Megamind flopped into the swivel chair with a long drawn- out exhalation. “Relationships are hard work, Minion, hard work. Don't let anyone tell you different. There's conversations, and misunderstandings, and... and things. Things that need discussion, and explaining. And whatnot.”

“Yeah. Couldn't agree more, Sir.”

“And yet, though I feel emotionally wrung out, I also feel so happy I could almost float up to the ceiling. If that makes any sense.”

“Well, I think so, Sir.”

Megamind let his head fall back against the chair. “I think she likes me, Minion. She said...” He bit his lip, and his face lit up in a bashful grin. “She said I was beautiful.”

Minion smiled back. “That's wonderful, Sir. So I take it that things are going all right?”

“I think so.”

“You wanna hear about my evening?” Minion gave him a sly look. “Very interesting.”

Megamind's silly grin turned puzzled. “Oh. Oh? How so?”

Minion made an exasperated sound. “Because of Metro Man. Remember?”

“Oh, yes.” Megamind frowned. “No, I don't want to hear anything about Mr. Goody Two-shoes. Most definitely not interested.”

“Yeah, but...”

“Didn't I say I'd win Miss Ritchi based on my own merits? Why, yes, I believe I did. I can't expect her to become my Evil Queen through some underhanded trickery. Furthermore,” he said, as Minion opened his mouth again, “I fully expect to keep being in the dark about our glorious hero, until I can seal the deal. Is that understood?”

Minion rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right. Have it your way.”

“Good.” Megamind idly rocked back and forth. Roxanne had been jealous, actually jealous. Maybe he shouldn't have rubbed it in, but what a different sensation! Usually he was the one that had to suffer through his jealousy of Metro Mahn, the jerk. And here Roxanne was feeling all territorial. Surely that meant something, didn't it?

A shiver ran through him and his limbs seemed to melt into the chair as he remembered the feel of her body in his arms and her lips on his, and her fingers tracing the shape of his head.

Those few times when he'd used to holo-watch to go out to bars and ended up kissing those women...and only after getting extremely drunk, because no situation was so bad that it couldn't be made worse by boozing it up... it'd been because he was trying to forget Roxanne. Unrequited love sucked, it sucked big time, and he thought if only he could dull its edge somehow, or even make himself get over Roxanne already, so he wasn't such a pathetically stereotypical nerd who couldn't deal with women in a romantic sense...

But it just did not happen. The kissing stuff was just... squishy and not all that interesting, really. One-night stands were completely out of the question. How in the hell did other people do it? Get naked with total strangers?! Everyone else seemed to like that kind of thing, so apparently this was yet another thing wrong with him.

The last time, three long years ago and blessedly getting farther away all the time so the whole miserable experience slowly dimmed into an alcoholic haze, finally convinced him he would never get over Roxanne, he didn't like kissing strangers, and obviously he'd never be what anyone would consider a normal red-blooded male, so the hell with it.

He shifted in the chair. He very definitely liked kissing Roxanne (he'd been a bit worried about that, and wondered if he was simply incapable of physical love, even with her, but when he touched her there were massive sparks, so no problem there), and she clearly didn't mind making out with him. He'd even had great hopes that she'd invite him to spend the night, but alas, the misunderstanding, and, possibly, his gloating, had altered the mood too much.

Megamind got up to fetch another beer, rather than send a brainbot. His footsteps echoed through the great drafty space of the Lair. The glowing dials from various instruments of doom, the scent of motor oil, the gentle rustle of paper from the idea cloud surrounded him with comforting familiarity.

He imagined bringing Roxanne here, helping her out of the invisible car and removing her blindfold. In his mind's eye she looked around with interest while he showed her around.

Oh, but maybe he should restrict the tour to the living areas? How much of his ee-vil plans should he reveal to her? That'd be a little tricky, as the bedrooms, the kitchen, the TV area/gaming console, and the bathroom were scattered about the place. It was a workplace and living space rolled into one, nothing like her brightly lit apartment. A great, huge, drafty, cold living space.

He looked around the kitchen as if seeing for the first time how dingy it was. It wasn't as if Minion and the brainbots didn't keep it clean, but the cupboards had been second-hand to begin with, and though the fridge was brand new, freshly stolen last year, it had acquired a certain rusty gloom almost as soon as it'd been installed. Would she even want to live here?

Maybe, instead of becoming his ee-vil co-ruler, she could continue as a journalist. Could that possibly work? With him scheming to conquer the city and Roxanne calmly reporting for work at KMCP every day?

He couldn't stop thinking about her photographs, and the people in them. He didn't have any photographs. Maybe Minion had some.

It was in this thoughtful frame of mind that he walked back across the Lair and joined Minion in front of the TV. “Minion, you ever think about the warden?”

Minion gave him a guarded look. “Uh...in what way?”

Megamind sat down with a shrug. “Oh, I don't know. Just...you ever think about going to talk to him? Or anything?”

“About what?”

Megamind waved the bottle around in a vague way. “You think he'd maybe want to, oh I don't know, meet Roxanne? As a random, non-specific example.”

Minion stared at him.

“Is it really so surprising?” Megamind said defensively. I just...” He clamped his lips together, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “Maybe mending a few fences, it might help with a few things. Make things more normal.”

Minion stared at him, and then burst into laughter. “I dunno, Sir, I think that ship's sailed.”

Megamind scowled into his drink. “Don't see what's so funny.”

“There's lots of families where people don't talk to each other. Sounds pretty normal to me!” He grinned, but as Megamind continued to look gloomily at the TV, his grin faded. “Do you want to patch things up with the warden?”

Megamind looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “I don't know. Do you?”

Minion squirmed. “I guess that'd be...okay. I guess. Kind of a long shot, isn't it?”

“A long shot, a long haul, up some really tough road.” He chugged the rest of the beer and put the bottle on the coffee table. “I'm going to bed. Oh, and I showed Miss Ritchi the holo-watch. G'night.” He leaped up and strode towards his room.

There was a shocked silence. Minion cried out, “Waaait just a minute there. You what?”

Megamind arranged his features into a careless expression as he turned around. “Showed her the holo-watch. Very impressed she was too, naturally.”

Minion's eye ridges bunched together. “Did I miss something? Like, Miss Ritchi's declaration of evil which led you to show her one of your greatest secrets?”

Megamind clucked his tongue. “Oh, come now, Minion, it's time I showed her a little trust. I merely revealed one of the many wondrous opportunities in store, to entice her ever more...”

“It's only the second date! Did you blurt it out first thing? It's going to be a lot harder to fool her now. She'll be on her guard.”

“Another challenge. We'll get by.” Megamind flapped his hand to indicate how little of a concern it was. “Besides, since my plan is destined to succeed, there won't be any more ee-vil kidnapping plots. Hence, no reason to fool her.” He sniffed and raised his chin. “Do you have so little confidence in Operation: Marriage Proposal?”

Minion opened and closed his mouth. “Well. Well, of course I do, Sir. Yeah. It's... bound to succeed, sure, but don't you think that...”

“There it is, then. Bound to succeed. Victory's practically guaranteed. I'm glad we got that settled.” His cell rang and he fished it out of his pocket. “It's her,” he gasped.

“Yeah, I know, Sir, she's the only other person with your number.”

“Roxanne,” he drawled. “Couldn't get enough of me, eh?”

Her throaty chuckle made his heart flutter. “Just wanted to be sure you made it home okay.”

“Mm-hm, no problems.”

“Next time you should wait a while longer 'til the alcohol clears your system.”

“Oh, I would have,” he said. “Only someone gave me the boot into the cold.”

“Cry me a river. What're you doing now?”

“Going to bed. My only comfort since being deprived of your company.”

Minion muttered, “Oh brother.”

“Was that Minion?” she asked.

Megamind made a face at his henchfish and headed in the direction of his room. “Yes, I believe that was my incredibly annoying henchfish who's too big for his bowl.”

“Say, I was thinking about when you said Minion could come along. That still on the table?”

“Certainly. He'll be your henchfish as well, after all.”

“Reporters don't need henchfish.”

“But Evil Queens do.”

“Hmph. I'm not agreeing to anything like that, here.”

“Just pointing it out, sweetie.” Megamind's face hurt, he was smiling so hard. She'd called him! He clutched at his head when he realized he'd called her sweetie, but she merely chuckled.

She said, “I was wondering if we could view the Orionid meteor showers.”

“Why, sure, uh...” He craned his neck and bellowed, “Minion! Want to come with me and Roxanne to see the meteor shower next weekend?”

Minion beamed and gave two thumbs up.

“All systems go,” Megamind said. “Afraid to be alone with me? Perfectly understandable.”

Roxanne laughed. “Yeah, right. We need a chaperone. You should be happy about that. Maybe it'll keep me from chasing you around the room.”

Megamind threw his head back and laughed. “It does appear to be a regular routine. Perhaps I could interest you in an alternative sort of workout?”

“Cool it, Romeo, or we'll embarrass Minion.”

“You're the one who needs to keep her hands to herself.”

“Uh-uh, you are.”

It took another half hour to say good-night, but neither of them really noticed.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

The next day was a gym day. Roxanne hated it and barely kept up with the minimum three days per week that she'd set for herself, but accepted it as one of the necessary evils of being in the public eye. She preferred walking or bike riding when the weather was good. Her friend Hannah came along today, another plus. At least she'd have someone with whom she could complain.

This time, instead of heading for the treadmill immediately, she took a look at the exercise classes being offered. There were several “X-Treme!!!” workouts listed on the board, and one that made a skeptical eyebrow go up.

Hannah giggled. “Dirty Dancing. Is that like individuals, or do you get stuck with a partner?”

“Well, it's women only,” Roxanne said. “Which raises the question of what, exactly, they're promoting here.”

Hannah giggled again. “They had a pole dancing class last year. But I think some people made a stink about it. Like that tight-ass,” she murmured, tilting her head in the direction of a prim-faced woman in a pristine workout suit across the room. “She goes to my church. I don't think she ever breaks a sweat.”

Roxanne looked at the list again. “Next class starts in ten minutes. Want to try it before it gets shut down?”

“Gonna give your man a show later, huh?” Hannah nudged her.

Roxanne had a sudden image of her and Megamind dancing and possibly doing a slow grind. _God knows I could use a few more pointers. It'd be nice to surprise him, too._ “Maybe I will,” she said, grinning.

Biting back nervous giggles, they went to the assigned room.

\- - - - - - -

Hannah had to take off shortly afterwards to run some errands, leaving Roxanne to take her time in the locker room. After showering, dressing, and fixing her makeup, she was about to stride out the door and head out to grab a bite before heading back to work, when a name caught her ear.

“...there when Megamind robbed the place?” the voice said, full of high-pitched alarm.

“Are you kidding? I had to wait on him.” The second woman sounded cheerful enough, with a story to tell.

“Oh. My. God. I would've been so scared.”

“Pfft. He never took _my_ money. Gene almost shit his pants.”

“Serves him right,” said a third voice, deeper and raspier.

Probably a smoker, Roxanne thought. She carefully looked around, but the three women were hidden behind the lockers. There was the rustling of clothes and the unwelcome noise of a hair dryer. The hidden talkers raised their voices, but Roxanne couldn't figure out what they were saying.

Fortunately the hair dryer stopped. “Did you have to...you know...give him the full treatment? What's a supervillain like?” There was a certain stressed quality to the voice. Roxanne got the impression that the speaker was wrinkling her nose.

There was a snort. “Oh, Gene wanted me to sit in his lap, but I was like no fucking way, man, you like him so much _you_ sit in his lap.”

Derisive chuckling at men's stupid demands followed. “You never said that,” the raspy voice said with a snort of her own.

“Yeah, well, I should have.”

Roxanne slipped over to another short row of lockers, sat on the bench, and busied herself with rearranging her purse. It wouldn't hurt to spend a few more minutes hanging out.


	8. Postponed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to KBJones for the surprise visitor at the end. I don''t know if I would have found been able to continue this story without her input!
> 
> Megamind's purely professional visit to the Pink Pussycat Club is chronicled in one of my other stories, "Night Club of Doom."

 

Roxanne did a bit of research on her own to verify what she'd overheard. There were no police reports about the incident at the Pink Pussycat Club, which surprised her, but her source, a police officer near enough to retirement to not give a rat's ass about the consequences, said that unofficially it was all true.

The club's owner, Gene Dibble, confirmed it as well, though he'd been outright alarmed at the sight of her, hadn't wanted to talk to her, and begged her not to tell Megamind.

“Tell him what?” she said sharply. “That I talked with you? He doesn't own me.”

Gene twisted his hands together and gave her an exasperated look. “No offense, miss, but if he's unhappy about somethin', he's not gonna take it out on _you_. Maybe he's gonna be mad at me anyway. I can't afford no more of his visits.”

\- - - - - -

Late at night, Megamind stood at the warden's back door, stealed himself, took a deep breath, and rapped lightly on the metal frame of the outer safety door.

One eternity later, footsteps creaked across linoleum, and the warden opened the inner door. His mouth went slack and he gasped.

“Um. Hi,” Megamind said, ducking his head briefly.

There was dead silence as the warden's eyes flickered from Megamind's face to his hands, took in his casual, non-villainous garb of t-shirt, leather jacket, and blue jeans so new they creaked when he moved.

“I'm unarmed,” Megamind said and lifted his hands. He'd even taken off the gloves. It wasn't strictly true. He wasn't visibly armed. He'd left the de-gun in the car, but he had a telescoping baton in his belt and brainbots in stealth mode at the car to be summoned in case of trouble.

Not that he expected any trouble of that sort from John Parker, his father and jailer. But he never went anywhere wholly unarmed, even though it was highly unlikely he'd run into any rivals or enemies here in this suburb.

The warden peered suspiciously into the darkness of his backyard.

“No brainbots, either,” Megamind said. “Flying solo. No tricks.” He thought it was a good sign the warden hadn't slammed the door in his face.

The warden's forehead wrinkled. “Is Minion all right?” He straightened up as if bracing for bad news.

“No, he's fine. Everything's fine.”

Now the warden's worried frown deepened into a scowl. “Then what is it?”

“Can I come in to talk?”

The warden eyed him in silence, clenching his jaw and pressing his lips together. At last his eyes closed as he sighed and unlocked the safety door. He turned to walk back into the kitchen.

Megamind stepped over the threshold onto the faded yellow linoleum, closing both doors behind him.

And froze at the sight of the warden placing a handgun on the counter.

Megamind stared at it before raising an eyebrow at the warden. The old man couldn't have known that his blue problem child was at the door. “Problems lately?”

“Been an uptick in robberies around here. Last month, two houses down, a home invasion.”

Megamind made a note to have brainbots begin patrolling these streets.

“Thanks for not shooting me.” He fidgeted and rubbed his elbow. “I've met someone,” he said. “Well, not just met someone. What I mean to say is....I'm dating. A woman. In case that happened to be something you wondered about.”

The warden blinked once, then twice. Gave a little nod. “That's nice.” He said it in the same flat voice he might have used to comment on getting a washing machine fixed, but he had tensed up and a new, warier expression was in his eyes.

“I want you to meet her,” Megamind said.

“Why?”

“Because....” 

 _You're my father. You're supposed to want to meet her._ The words stuck in his throat.

At last he blurted, “Aren't you curious?”

The warden lifted one shoulder and let it fall again. “Mildly, I suppose.” He didn't invite Megamind to sit. He leaned one hip against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms.

“Such a surprise, isn't it, for me to have found someone willing to put up with all this?” he said, gesturing at himself and letting his hand fall.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Because I'm so hideous, is that it?” he snapped. The warden's lack of reaction was getting under his skin.

“Oh, please,” the warden said. “You know I didn't mean that.” Still in a tone of infuriating calm.

Megamind felt his teeth grind together, but he supposed the warden had a point. They were rehashing ancient arguments, and Megamind knew he was being kind of an ass towards the old man. The habit of arguing with him was strong. “She thinks you were wrong to imprison me.”

“I suppose so.”

“You suppose so what? That she's right, or that it's only natural that she should think that?” he said, his voice growing sharper with every word.

The warden merely stared. “What do you want from me?” he asked wearily.

“I don't know, something more than indifference.”

The warden snorted, a brief grin stretched out his lips and his moustache quivered.

Megamind bristled. “What's so damn funny?”

“I thought you outgrew that. Behaving badly to get my attention.”

“That's not why I...you...they....” he sputtered. “It was the only way to... to not curl up in a ball and die! Which is exactly what they wanted.”

“Yeah, it was all their fault, I'll bet that's what you tell yourself every day.”

“I tried, you know I did. I tried all the damn time to fit in, and all I got was beaten down.”

“There's a difference between defending yourself and diving into a life of crime.”

“If it was up to you I'd've been locked up forever.”

“I wanted to introduce you into the community gradually, so there wouldn't be so much backlash. But no, you have to do it your way, and you're impatient and stubborn and have no..." The warden bared his teeth and flung his hands up in the air. "Oh my God, I have _had_ it! No more! I am _not_ having this same damn argument again!"

They glared at each other, chests heaving.

Megamind crossed his arms over his chest. “So do you want to meet her or not?” he muttered.

The warden sighed and rubbed his eyes. “What do you expect to happen here, Blue? Because honestly, I don't know if I have the energy for it.”

Megamind grimaced. Simply by coming here he was putting the warden in an impossible situation. Associating with a known felon could get the warden in serious trouble, and Megamind ought to do the honorable thing and get out of the warden's life for good.

His hands tightened on his upper arms. “I-I just thought you could meet her. That's all. And then...I'll s-stay away.” His voice came out quavery and weak.

The warden worked his jaw and sighed some more. At last he met Megamind's eyes. “I have to think about it,” he said quietly. “Don't come here again. Call me at work.”

That seemed to be as good as it was going to get.

"All right," Megamind said. "All right.

 _Good thing I didn't tell him I'm dating the girl I used to kidnap_ , he thought as he trudged back to the car. _That really would have put him in a snit._

_\- - - - -_

Roxanne came armed with some very interesting information for the next date. She felt rather smug about it, as she knew very little about what Megamind did when he wasn't kidnapping her and threatening Metro Man.

Maybe it was just as well that Minion was tagging along this time. He had been involved in the robbery as well.

They picked her up from work. She didn't have any broadcasts scheduled for the next two nights. Unfortunately it was one of those times when she could not shake Hal from her side, and he insisted on waiting with her outside the building for her ride.

“It's not safe, Roxy. Getting dark, all these muggers and other types lurking around,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Which would have been less creepy if he wasn't also leering as he said it.

“Don't I know it,” she muttered, turning to watch the street.

“How come you don't have him come pick you up in the lobby?” Hal complained, shivering. “It's freezing out here.”

Roxanne sighed. She, at least, was dressed for an outdoor excursion, with three layers and the parka she used for the most severe weather. Though it wasn't nearly as cold as it would get mid-winter, she would be going to watch the meteor shower with Megamind and Minion. Being outside for at least three hours necessitated the full winter get-up.

She thought about snuggling under warm blankets. Well, she could always pretend to be cold.

A blue station wagon pulled up to the curb. The back window rolled down and Megamind's disguised face peered out, grinning widely. “Well, hello there, good looking. Need a lift?”

Roxanne smiled so her cheeks hurt, not even caring about Hal's boggled expression.

It was odd, but she could see how Megamind's mobile features transformed his disguise. The way his eyes danced, the way his mouth curved into that saucy, excited grin, the way his eyebrow quirked, it shone through his borrowed features. It was evident in the way he swept out of the car (and that was the only way to describe it; he didn't climb out of the car, swept), shoulders square and back straight. Even without the vivid green eyes to give him away, she was sure she would recognize Megamind anywhere.

Unfortunately he still wore the custodian's uniform. Or rather, the disguise generator was. Roxanne wondered if it was capable of keeping the same face, but changing their clothing. That would be helpful.

“Who's this?” Hal said sullenly.

Roxanne turned a bright smile on him. “This my friend... Peter. We're going to view the Orionid meteor showers.”

Hal scowled. “A janitor?”

Megamind's teeth flashed as he clapped Hal on the shoulder. “Very astute, citizen. I've just now gotten off work, as we mustn't waste any time getting to the site. Tons of people will be there. Hordes are expected to turn out!”

“Well, who's driving?” Hal leaned to the side to peer into the car.

Jesus, how nosey could you get? Roxanne thought. “That's his friend Paul. Okay, gotta go, bye.”

She darted to the car and hopped in. Though it looked like a station wagon on the outside, it still had the wide, luxurious interior of the Hudson. No doubt Hal got a good look at that, too, judging from his angrily bewildered face right before she slammed the door.

Megamind dove into the other back passenger side and Minion hit the gas.

Roxanne shrieked with laughter. “How's that for a getaway!”

Megamind laughed. “Peter and Paul?”

Roxanne flapped her hand. “Just sprang to mind. Robbing Peter to pay Paul.”

“Ha ha ha! No one robs me!” he cackled.

“We all ready to go?” Minion said cheerfully. “Need anything from your apartment, Miss Ritchi?”

As they reached the city limits, the clouds, which had been wispy and fleeting for most of the day, began to thicken.

“So much for the weather forecast,” Roxanne said, peering up at the darkened sky. Damn it. She'd been looking forward to the meteors.

They pulled over at a gas station to discuss their options, and decided to head back to the Lair.

Roxanne willingly agreed to the blindfold. They watched _Oklahoma!_ on the widescreen TV and ate the snacks Minion had prepared for the excursion.

As the hour grew late she said, “Heard about your little outing at the Pink Pussycat Club.”

They both stared at her with identical goggle-eyed expressions.

Megamind shrugged and pretended nonchalance. “What of it?”

“Let me see if I heard right,” she said. “This strip club had an act that showcased me and you in some kind of kidnapping situation, yes? And you held the entire place hostage, terrorized everybody, and extorted ten thousand dollars out of the owner.”

“That is correct. Threatened to blackmail a police lieutenant and had a little talk with the performers, just to impress upon them the error of their ways. I did it for your honor.”

“Haven't you heard of freedom of speech?”

“You act like some stripper dressing up as you and dancing around is perfectly fine by you.”

“Well, I admit I'm not crazy about the idea. But did you really have to commit several felonies in my name? That's against the rules.”

“Miss Ritchi, the contract is not to be implemented retroactively. My purely professional visit to the Pink Pussycat Club took place before we signed that historic piece of paper.”

In the end, he was unrepentant about the raid, and she found that she didn't mind, really. She found herself intrigued about his standing in the larger criminal underworld.

He got his butt kicked by Metro Man so often that she hadn't thought much about his interactions with other villains. She tended to picture him in one of three ways: confronting Metro Man, holed up in his Lair, or in prison.

Which of course left a lot of time left to be filled. Surely he couldn't spend all his free time in the Lair. He needed supplies, food, parts for his inventions.

How much of his criminal activities was she willing to overlook? His raid on the strip club was kind of chivalrous, in a way. Should it bother her that it didn't particularly bother her? Probably.

“I'm surprised you didn't just blow the place up.”

“The raid had more of a lasting impact,” he said with a shrug. “Sets it in people's minds.”

The evening ended pleasantly enough. Megamind brought her home, but their make-out session was minimal, as Roxanne found herself unusually exhausted.

“Must've been a longer week than I thought,” she said.

\- - - - -

Scientists claimed that cold weather itself was not a cause of increased colds and flu, but it was impossible to believe that when oneself was stricken with a malady.

The next day, Roxanne could feel sickness coming on, the nagging tickle in her throat, the slight achiness in her sinuses, an uncomfortable pressure deep in her ears. Her exhaustion the night before made more sense now. She was becoming ill. She hoped she hadn't passed it on to Megamind.

She sucked down herbal tea and took a hot bath, but by the next morning she had a full-blown fever and her joints ached.

She was supposed to have done a Sunday evening broadcast, but that wasn't possible. “I'm sick,” she said snuffily to her boss, her mother, and to Megamind, who assured her that he was well and unbothered by any irritating viruses.

He offered his sympathy. “Do you need anything? Any...oh, I don't know, dry cleaning you need picked up or...”

“No, my mom's stopping by later with food and stuff.”

“Better get well soon,” he said in a sing-song voice. “The dates'll be piling up.”

Roxanne made a rude noise.

“I was just teasing,” he said in a placating voice. “I guess neither of us thought to include a clause on what to do in case of illness.” 

“My brain is mush,” Roxanne said, flopping across the bed. “I don't care about the damn contract.”

“Not to fret, my dear,” he said. “The whole thing will be in abeyance until you're completely healed. I'll forgo all overdue dates. No pile-ups, no dates to make up later.”

“Aw. That's sweet.” Roxanne felt a smile tug at one corner of her mouth until a sharp pain shot across her cheekbones. “Uuurggh, it even hurts to smile,” she groaned.

Megamind made more sympathetic sounds. “Sure there's not anything I can do to help? Want some company? I promise I wouldn't make a fuss or expect any kind of entertainment.”

“That's good, because you wouldn't get any,” Roxanne muttered into the pillow. “All I want to do is get into my pajamas and sleep. It'd be pretty boring for you.”

She wondered if she ought to have even mentioned pajamas. It was the perfect opening for some sly banter about silky lingerie, but Megamind only said, “Okay. If you change your mind or just want to talk, call me anytime. I'll happily talk your ear off. You can just grunt and sniffle.”

Roxanne managed to chuckle without too much pain. “I'm going to take a buttload of ibuprofen and go to sleep. Love you. Bye.”

It was only later as she was crawling under the covers in her comfiest red flannel pajamas that she realized what she'd said.

\- - - - - -

Her mom came by with soup and frozen dinners, spent two hours vacuuming her apartment which made Roxanne hide under the pillows, chided her gently about overwork, and left her alone after that.

\- - - - -

The next morning she felt like moss was covering her teeth and her whole body ached. Any thought of food or even coffee was repellent, but she had half a cup of coffee to stave off caffeine headaches and ate some plain toast.

“Even my hair hurts,” she complained to Megamind on the phone.

“Impressive.”

“And my eyebrows. Hate being sick,” she grumbled, flicking through channels. “Hate daytime TV. Too many ads for medicine. Why is that?”

“Because we live in a futuristic dystopia ruled by pharmaceutical companies and other big corporations. Soon they'll be advertising pills you'll need from birth.”

“I knew it,” Roxanne muttered. “What are you working on? I hear metal clicking.”

“Automatic screwdriver. Reattaching the chassis to a brainbot. Had to replace a malfunctioning relay.” There was the sound of a small motor, and a happy bowg-ing noise. “There,” Megamind said. “Bubbles is ready to go.” 

“Bubbles,” Roxanne snorted as her face split in a grin. “Good one. Very evil.”

“Hey, you want to come up with twenty thousand unique names for every individual in a robot horde, be my guest.”

“Lamp. Table. Magazine. Taking notes? These are golden.” Roxanne rolled her sore eyeballs around to gaze at the apartment and the ceiling. “Spiderweb. Huh. How'd Mom miss that one?”

“Spee-iderweb has possibilities. Though there's already Spee-iderbot.” Megamind went around the Lair, chatting about the little chores he was performing. Roxanne barely managed much more than sniffles and grunts. She worried a little that she was boring him and said so.

“Nonsense,” he chuckled. “Minion's already heard everything I have to say. You have new, mostly unsullied ears.”

Roxanne fell asleep at one point, and was horribly embarrassed about it, but Megamind just laughed.

“We've been talking for two hours. Clearly I'm too much for you.” He coughed and cleared his throat.

“You've been talking. You sound hoarse.”

“What, me? Nonsense. I have a voice box of steel.” He coughed again. “Just need some water.”

“I'm going to take a nap, okay?”

“Need any help falling asleep, call me. I'll drone on and on and on and....”

Roxanne fell against the cushions in helpless laughter. “At least wait until I'm in bed, geez.”

“Okay. Sleep well, my love.” He clicked off.

Roxanne stared at the phone.

She wasn't sure what to do about this development. Both of them were starting to throw around the word 'love' in a disturbingly casual way. In her case it had kind of slipped out under the influence of groggy sickness. She didn't dislike it, but.... well, if there were any declarations of love to be made, then it ought to be more serious than that. Shouldn't it?

It was too much for her flu-addled brain to process. She curled up under the blanket, trying to find a cool spot on the pillow. She'd rest a little while before heading upstairs.

\- - - - - - -

The doorbell rang.

She lifted her head, groaning at the snot on her cheek. The living room was in darkness. Dang, she'd fallen asleep on the couch.

Who could be at the door? Maybe Megamind, or Minion. Or Wayne.

 

The doorbell rang again, longer and more insistent.

Roxanne found some semi-clean tissues and wiped her face, then staggered upright, clutching the blanket around her shoulders, and lurched to the door. She undid the locks, wondering why her super-powered friends hadn't used the balcony. It could be Mom again, though usually she called before coming over.

She swung the door open.

Hal stood on the threshold holding a take-out container. “Hey, Roxaroo! Heard you were sick. Thought I'd drop by, bring a little soup, cheer you up, no need to thank me.”


End file.
